


Redemption

by TheFangedGoblin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFangedGoblin/pseuds/TheFangedGoblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel brought Dean up from Hell, he lost his grace in the process and fell to Earth. Still retaining some of his angelic qualities, demons went on the hunt for him. He was saved by the Winchester brothers, who quickly learn his fall may have not have been an accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A man with unkempt dark hair and eyes like the stormy sea in winter sat on his bed with his head cocked at an angle, staring at nothing with unfocused eyes. A female doctor has sat across from him and scribbled notes down on a chart before lifting her gaze and speaking the man’s name. It seemed to snap the young man out of his trance-like state.

“Castiel? Do you know where you are? You’re at the Connor Beverly Behavioral Medicine Center,” She spoke softly, almost to herself, as if she did not expect the man to hear or listen. When the man looked at her, the doctor shifted uncomfortably in her seat. His stare was intense and unnerving and he had a way of making her feel like a bug under a microscope. When he looked at her, she felt as if he is looking straight into her very soul.

“Do you know why you’re here?” She asked again when she received no response.

“I fell,” Castiel answered simply in a gruff, deep voice. The psychiatrist sighed, knowing he was still delusional. It took three times the normal amount of medication to sedate him, and five times the manpower. The patrolling police had picked him up after he was found on the side of the road, naked and screaming. After he had been checked out at the hospital, they sent him here, to the loony bin. When he did speak, he talked of angels and demons and the rising apocalypse. This time, the doctor decided to play along. The man who called himself Castiel seemed to respond better, rather than shutting down completely, when one pretended to understand what he was saying.

“Where did you fall from?” She asked, making more notes on the chart.

“I was going back to Heaven when I fell,” Castiel answered, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. The doctor looked up then. This was something new from him.

“Really? Where were you before that?” She asked curiously, leaning forward in her chair. Castiel sat very still. He was always too still. He never fiddled with anything or even twitched like a lot other patients the doctor was used to. Instead, he was like a living statue.

“There was a battle in Hell. The angels were fighting to save a human soul. I got to him first, and I pulled him up out of the Pit and used up too much of my power to save us both. After I healed his body and restored his soul, I tried to go home, but I was too injured,” Castiel explained. It was perhaps the most the young man had ever spoken to anyone at one time. She opened her mouth to ask more, but a sudden knock at the door interrupted.

“Doctor, there are two FBI agents here, and they would like to speak with you about Castiel,” an orderly announced. The doctor frowned, wondering why the FBI would be interested in a delusional man with apparent amnesia and possible schizophrenia.

“Alright,” she sighs, standing before turning to the nurse. “Give him a sedative and restrain him, his nightmares have gotten violent,” she whispers to the nurse as she leaves. The nurse nods and does as she is told, and Castiel is passive and obedient as he is given an injection and strapped loosely to the bed.

The doctor makes her way to the lobby to greet her guests. They are both wearing suits and look very much like she would imagine FBI agents to look, but she would not know any better otherwise. It was not often that the FBI investigated one of her patients.

“How can I help you two gentlemen?” She asks when she arrives in the hospital lobby to greet her important guests. They answer her by flashing their shiny badges with pride.

“Agents Thomas and Adams,” The very tall one spoke first. “We just have a few questions about a patient here.”

“Yes, Castiel, the nurse told me. I don’t really know what to say… the police picked him up two months ago. He was naked and delusional, screaming about demons of all things,” she said with a little laugh, and shrugged. “He later said his name was Castiel, but didn’t know his last name, and claimed he didn’t have one.”

Before anything more could be said, and orderly came running up to her, clearly in a panic. His hair was wild as if he had been pulling at it, and he nearly stumbled on his own feet. “Castiel just knocked a nurse out and took off!” He shouted.

An expression of panic and fear, and a little bit of confusion, flashed across the doctor’s face. “Is she okay?! We have to find him before he hurts anyone else or himself.” She yelled.

“She’s okay but she doesn’t even remember going into his room…” The orderly answered breathlessly.

******************************************

Meanwhile, Castiel ran as if his life depended on it, as he was pretty sure it did. He had not noticed at first that the nurse had been possessed, not until he let the creature get too close. The medicine they had given him had dulled his senses, but he had managed to tear the restraints that bound him and smacked the imposter unconscious. Now the drugs were really beginning to kick in, and it seemed the world was moving in slow motion. His limps felt weighed down by the air itself.

He ended up headed up, instead of down. He took the stairs to the roof as quickly as his tiring legs could, his white scrubs he wore hindering his movements. He was not able to think clearly, but for some reason he thought if he got to the roof everything would be okay. As an angel, his instincts were what often drove him. They had never proved him wrong before. He crashed through the door and sighed in exhaustion when he felt the sunlight hit his face.

************************************************

To Dean, it sure as Hell sounded like their 'patient' was just attacked by a demon, and he knew without consolidation that his brother would agree. Whether this guy was really crazy was still up to investigation, but Dean had one of his hunches, and his hunches usually turned out right, he was proud to say. Besides, right now he would welcome anything that might take his mind off the rising apocalypse or the nightmares he still suffered while awake. When Ruby had come to Sam and told him about this man with psychic abilities that all the demons were after, Dean had jumped at the opportunity.

Dean also knew far too well how fast adrenaline could pump while running from a demon. Their guy could be anywhere by now. For all he knew, he could be the demon. Just then, the emergency alarm rang, and doors slammed open as a search party formed. They had to think quick before the search party found the dude and electric shocked him into a coma.

"Did anyone see what direction he ran?" Sam asked the doctor while Dean was too deep in thought to do so, and the doctor shook her worried head. She was standing wide eyed with helplessness. "He couldn't have gotten by security..." A nurse beside her pointed out.

"The roof. I bet he's on the roof," Dean muttered, almost just to himself, as suddenly as the idea struck him. Still sporting his intense 'FBI face', remembering to stay in character, Dean looked to his brother before turning towards a door that he knew only led up. "Let us handle this." He reassured the women before racing up the stairs. It had been left open by a lazy security guard, no doubt.

Dean heard Sam's footsteps following him up the stairs. "Come on, Dean... who would hide on the roof? There's no way down from there. He's not up here-" his younger brother tried to stop him, but before he could even finish his sentence, Dean slammed the door to the roof open and he was met with the cool afternoon breeze and a man standing there in the sun. Or rather, the sun seemed to stand on him. There was something unearthly in the way he bathed in the light and a chill ran up Dean’s spine as if a ghost had gone straight through him. He kept his distance.

"Castiel? Don't jump, whatever you do, we need to talk to you," Dean called loudly over to him, because the man seemed to be far away in a trance.

"I'm tired of talking," Castiel answered, not looking over at the men that had joined him on the roof. "I do not want to be here anymore." He scooted closer to the edge of the roof, his bare feet on the ledge. He was tired of this world called Earth, he did not belong here. He missed the sweet comfort and reassurance of Heaven.

Dean thought it was strange how the young man's voice was so soft-spoken, yet it felt as though it were whispered into his ear. He instinctively took a step forward when he saw Castiel's true intentions. "Hold on, man, you don't wanna do that. It's a long way down," He himself was not too fond of heights, but he decided he would go chasing after the guy before he decided to try and jump.

"We know all about the demons, Castiel... we need you alive to help you. And maybe you can help us," Dean tried again. He skipped the flashy display of the badge. When someone is about to jump off the roof of a mental hospital, games like that were not so important.

"We're not like the others," Sam offered.

That finally seemed to snap Castiel out of his trance, and he turned around to look at the two men. He looked over the tall one that spoke last first. "You have demon blood in you," he told Sam a matter-of-factually. Sam’s shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. As if he did not get enough of this daily reminder stuff from Dean, now he was taking it from strangers.

"Thanks,” He snorted sarcastically. “Sometimes I forget... always good to- hey! How the hell do you know that?"

When Castiel’s eyes turned to Dean, they widened in recognition. "I know you," he told him simply, still not stepping off the edge. He seemed perfectly content to stand on the edge of a high building, where a strong wind could easily knock him off. Dean stared, perplexed.

"No, I don't think we've met," Dean denied, but nothing in his line of work was as it seemed. "Come off that edge and you can properly meet us," Dean proposed as kindly and harmlessly as he could, but Sam just glared angrily in the opposite direction.

Castiel took one last longing look at the edge before finally stepping away from it. He kept eye contact with Dean as he got closer until he had stepped right up into the other man's personal space. He looked over Dean's face before coming back to his eyes. Dean heaved a secret sigh of relief when Castiel abandoned the edge of the building but every step he took closer to him made him want to take two steps back. He stood firm in his pride and arrogance, however, in attempt to match the other man's.

"Dean Winchester," he said as softly as a prayer.

Castiel was not human, at least not on the inside, Dean knew that. He knew his name and spoke it with purpose and recognition and he did not like it one bit. He remembered the locality of his weapons as a security measure.

"How do you know his name?" Sam asked Castiel, having half a mind to step between them. The guy had a snotty attitude now that he was farther from the edge. Sam liked him closer to it. "Dean, do you know this guy?" His voice was almost accusing, as if his brother was hiding something. But Dean wished that something was not hidden from him as well.

"What are you?" Dean challenged fearlessly. "And why are you on every demon's most wanted list?"

Sometimes, Dean thought, it was better to be blunt.

"They want me for information," Castiel answered honestly, because he did not know how to lie. "And you know what I am." He reached out and gripped Dean's shoulder, right over a healing hand print. Sam’s eyes widened, and Dean froze and stared.

"Don't touch him," Sam shoved the hand off of his brother's shoulder, because he thought his brother must be too spellbound to do it himself.

Castiel hardly flinched. "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

Dean did not even notice his brother’s protective gesture, too shocked by what this man had said. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief despite the sudden unexplained aching in his arm where the burn mark remained.

"Oh, really? And what would give you that kind of power? You don't look like the kinda guy who could pull someone out of Hell," Dean challenged. "You're human. That's what you are. You're standing here in scrubs..."

Castiel looked down at himself and seemed to deflate. "I wasn't always like this," he tried to explain, but then fell silent. If demons had finally found him then that meant Dean could be in danger. "You should go," he told them suddenly.

Dean heard a snickering from an angry Sam but ignored it. "Sure, we'll go," Dean agreed, emphasizing the word 'we', because they were not leaving without what they came for. "Right after you tell me how you know all this stuff about us."

"I..." Castiel began, but the world was now starting to tilt. "I fell when I saved you… I fell and now I am like this. Not human, but not angel. I am an abomination of Heaven." He was suddenly very tired. He turned to Sam. “Like you,” he added, and Sam huffed in anger.

"And I… I think you should go..." He tried to tell them both again, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he could not fight the darkness off any longer. Dean hung on his every word, even when they trailed off into nothingness and he collapsed under sedation. Instinct took over the second Dean saw Castiel's knees begin to give underneath him, and he broke his fall before his head could smash onto the cruel cement of the hot roof. His hands shook as they touched him, and he pulled away quickly, standing up jittery and numb. How else would the man know everything he did if he was not the one to pull him out of Hell? Sam, who was defensive but a moment ago, stared in shock at the man by their feet.

"Oh my god... is it true?" Sam's voice shook Dean out of his stupor. By the way is brother was reacting, he would believe it.

"I don't know, but we can't just let him bake here on the roof waiting for demons to come peck at him... we need to get him out of here. Maybe Bobby will be able to tell us what he is, if he is lying." He brainstormed out loud, because he knew there was not a lot of time. Here they were, exposed for anything to come get them.

"He pulled you out of Hell and you think Bobby is going to know more about him than you?" Sam asked, shaking his head in exasperation. Dean rolled his eyes and dropped to his knees to gingerly pick up the unconscious body, nervous and unsure. They had no choice.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel woke with a start, feeling as though he had not slept at all. He looked around the room inquisitively before sitting up on the cot someone had placed him on. The room was made of iron and the walls depicted a variety of religious symbols, so many that some overlapped, and Castiel recognized each and every one of them. He stood shakily, tried the door, and frowned when he found it locked. He was human now, and locks were suddenly a problem. Had he been captured? Imprisoned? Memories suddenly came rushing back to him like a tidal wave. The Winchester brothers must have brought him here, but for what reason, he did not know.

Dean, Sam, and Bobby’s conversation was interrupted by Castiel’s loud attempts to escape the panic room, and the men exchanged knowing glances. Of the three, however, Dean was the first to rise up from his seat and walked to the basement. The other two allowed it passively, knowing that Dean had some unfinished business with their new friend.

The hunter bravely pushed aside the door to the panic room and shut it behind him. Just by being in this room, it proved that Castiel was no demon, but it did not mean that any of them were willing to trust him yet. He was afraid to admit to himself that he could be standing in the room with his savior, the one who gripped him out of the depths of Hell. He was afraid to admit that this man really had been something else, and not all that long ago.

"So you gonna explain yourself?" He asked the wide eyed prisoner again, his arms crossed over his chest. Castiel cocked his head to the side and looked at Dean curiously.

"I thought I had done enough talking already," Castiel replied simply. He took in Dean's defensive posture with a frown. He has spent two months with humans and still did not understand them. In fact, all he had learned was that they were unpredictable and liable to shoot you up with medicine for speaking the truth. With that in mind, Castiel actually took a step away from Dean, his posture reminding him of when the orderlies at the hospital were not happy with him. He was well aware of how weak he was right at this moment. Dean's face softened when he saw the man almost shrink away from him. He was not expecting that from someone, or something, who willingly threw himself into the fires of evil to save a simple mortal soul.

"Yeah, whatever, I get the whole man of a few words bullshit. But let's get to the point, shall we?" Dean tried to remain stern. They did not have time for games. "If you were an angel sent by God to save me from Hell, why are you human now? And why are you demon bait? You said before they want you for information..." He tried to remind Castiel, who was looking more than a little lost. Castiel looked around the room again as if his attention span was too short for this conversation, but just as Dean was about to give up, he spoke to him as if he had been attentive the whole time.

"I told you before, I was injured. When an angel loses that much of their grace, they have no choice but to fall or die. So I choose a human life," he explained. He had wondered every day thereafter if he had made the right choice. Of course, if he had chosen a different fate, he would not have gotten to see Dean again, whose soul shown like a beacon of light in the dark pit.

Castiel turned his full attention back at Dean and noticed he did not seem as defensive as before. He stepped right up to his personal space, looking straight into his green eyes. He liked being close to Dean, it seemed to make this world a brighter place. Dean almost jumped back the second Castiel's sharp eyes focused on him. The deep, angelic pools of blue saw too far into his soul.

"And now, of course, the demons want me. They want to get their hands on a fallen angel, to be able to torture me for information. I am surprised it took them this long to find me. You know this is a war, Dean, and right now, no one is winning," Castiel informed him.

"Hold on, hold on,” Dean interrupted, holding out his hands as if he were trying to block the information overload. “You're telling me God himself ordered you to take me out of Hell, but by being obedient to his command you got injured and now you are forced to be human? You being like this is my fault?"

That is, Dean thought, if this guy was telling the truth. But why else would the demons be after him? And why would God sacrifice the immortality and life of one of his own angels to save Dean from the pit? What in Dean did God value more than one of his own messengers? And why did God not heal Castiel and make him as restore him? Maybe God was just a child playing a game, like Lilith.

"Man, I'd be pretty damn pissed off at God right now if I were you," Dean shook his head.

"My orders came from on high. Rescue Dean Winchester. I just happened to get to you first," he tried to explain, not understanding why Dean would expect him to be angry. He was a being created for the sole purpose of obeying order. Only seven angels, the Archangels, have actually seen the face of God and have spoken directly with Him. The rest of the angels were merely soldiers. "I am not angry at my Father, I have no reason to be. There is no one at fault here."

Dean sat down at Bobby's desk chair and rolled his eyes at Castiel's ignorance. "No, God totally dicked you over. And what's worse is you still think you're an angel, so you refuse to see it. He picked a human in Hell over you. Some father he is," Dean snorted. He really did not need another thing to feel guilty about.

Castiel knew it was pointless to argue. Humans understood nothing. "I should not be here. You need to let me leave," Castiel told him simply, and Dean rolled his eyes at the change in subject. Castiel knew it was too dangerous, for all of them, and he would not put Dean into any more danger than he already was in. He was not sure what God wanted him to do now that he was human, but he was fairly certain he would not want him to be here.

Frustrated, Dean knew it was in one ear and out the other, just like it was with Anna. He guessed that not much changed after Castiel became human, if human is what you could call him. "Are all angels this dumb? Where else are you going to go? This is maybe the only place on the planet you are safe," He gestured to the demon proof walls surrounding them. He did not understand why Castiel had to always be on the move, or why he cared so little about his own life. "And don't act like you care about our wellbeing. All angels have done for us so far is sit back and watch while we nearly kill ourselves. And now we gotta babysit one."

"Everyone has choices, and I suggest you choose to let me leave here. If not for your sake, then for your brother’s," Castiel told him. He did not mean for it to sound like a threat, but to Dean it did. There was just no getting through to Castiel, but he still was not going to let him run free. He had both humans and demons after him, and both would find him the instant he stepped outside. The man obviously did not know how to be human, and he would stick out like a sore thumb.

"Sure. But we can't exactly let you loose,” Dean theorized. “Humans are no match for demons, trust me, I should know. They'll get information, and we don't want that. You're staying. Get used to it. Unless you get your God to let you back upstairs."

"I can take care of myself," Castiel insisted, a little defensively. "You are human and have lived this long… and I battled ten years in hell to get to you. I can handle a few demons that crawled out of The Pit,” Castiel told him as he held his head high. He was not a child, he was a warrior of God. He might not be all that he once was, but he was not going to give up.

Dean’s face snapped to attention. His face was void of emotion, as usual when his thoughts turned to the darkness of the Hell. "You battled ten years down there?" He asked hesitantly. Ten years was a long time, especially when you were in Hell. No wonder Castiel lost his wings, so to speak.

Still, forty was longer. Dean stood up and walked over to the man, standing directly in front of him, this time being the one to steal a little personal space. He shuffled his long sleeve shirt off and stood in his T-shirt underneath, lifting up the short sleeve to expose the red scar of a handprint that still sometimes burned with lingering pain.

"Is this familiar?" He asked.

"Yes," Castiel said, lifting his hand to place it over the mark. His mark. His hand fit perfectly over it. Dean stood so still for that moment he did not breathe, but he blinked and quickly pulled away as if Castiel’s hand had burned him. "I apologize for leaving this. I did not have enough strength left to heal you fully," Castiel’s added.

Dean quickly paced the floor, knowing now for sure that Castiel was telling the truth, about absolutely everything. "So what next? We can't let you go, otherwise the demons get one on us. Got any feedback from God?" His voice was thick with frustration. "Or has he forsaken you forever?"

"I no longer hear the Host." Castiel answered, and there was a hint of sadness in his tone. He was not used to feeling anything, much less forlorn sensations of loneliness. The emotions seemed to only distance himself further from his God and his Heaven. "I still do not think my presence here is a wise choice."

"You're used to not having choices, so you can deal with not having one right now," Dean barked at Castiel and put his flannel shirt back on quickly. He fumbled with the buttons, suddenly feeling far too exposed. Castiel watched as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. "You have to stop thinking you're invincible. You’re human now, for whatever reason, and anything and everything could and would kill you."

"So I am to stay with you?" Castiel asked. Maybe this arrangement would not be so bad after all. He scrunched his nose in distaste, however, as he looked around his surroundings again. "Do I have to stay in this room? It's confining.”

Dean shrugged, not really caring what Castiel really thought of the room. "Anywhere else and you're demon food. I doubt you'd give under interrogation... all you angels are the same... but you'd definitely die," he told him. He paced slower now, and glanced into the man's blue eyes, only to find he was unable to stand it for a second before turning his head. Before he could think of what to do next, however, the lights in the room twitched and shook and he heard voices of others outside.

"Dean!" He heard Bobby's voice warning him, and he jumped to action immediately.

"What the-!" Dean shouted, and looked frantically around the room, damning Bobby for not making more hiding places. He looked to the bed.

"Hide under the bed,” Dean ordered Castiel, and when Castiel merely stood with wide eyes, Dean growled and practically shoved him into his hiding place. “And don't you even think about moving, do what I say just this once!"

Castiel was sure by the way Dean was acting that all other previous interactions with other angels have not been pleasant. He wondered who was sent as a guardian for Dean. The thought of someone else in a job that should have been his irritated him. Dean would have been his if he had been stronger.

Dean opened the door to the panic room, prepared and equipped and expecting the worse, but found Anna and that other angel instead. He slumped his shoulders and gave them both the same disrespectful glare he always did.

"It's okay, Cas. You can come out. It's not demons," Dean spoke to the bed. It would have been useless to try and hide him, anyway. The idiot did not know how, and his damn legs were poking out from underneath. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to the angels.

"So you're just gonna come by whenever you feel like it, but you're gonna be MIA every time we could actually use your help?" He glared. Castiel wondered if this would be a good time to leave, since Dean was holding the door wide open, any ideas of escape quickly ended when he out from under the bed and saw his two angel siblings.

"You should be happy we are even here now," Uriel told Dean, before he quickly spotted Castiel. "You!" He shouted, pushing Dean out of the way to come at Castiel, who backed away. "We thought you had died, but it seems to be worse," he laughed, looking Castiel up and down in his weakened human form. He grabbed Castiel by the throat and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing but a feather. "You always were too empathetic towards the mud monkeys. And look where it has gotten you, Castiel. My, how the mighty have fallen," he sneered as Castiel made a choking sound.

"What the hell is wrong with you people!? Is this how you treat your own?! Your brother? Put him down!" Dean demanded, and advanced towards him, fearlessly. When Uriel only laughed, something in Dean snapped. He did not care anymore that this douche was an angel or not. Dean did not appreciate being physically pushed around, and he especially did not like it when the angel picked his captive up like it was nothing and choked him. "I said put him down!"

With that, Dean punched Uriel in the stomach, and Castiel dropped from his grip. Sam and Bobby, who were extremely late to the scene, came in between Uriel and Dean immediately as if they could both serve as a buffer against the attack to Dean they all knew was coming. It was Anna who stopped the chaos, however.

"We have orders to come for Castiel. We understand he is an endangerment," she spoke calmly. Uriel gave Dean a venomous look that promised retribution.

Castiel collapsed to the floor and struggled to breath for a moment. Dean had actually stood up for him, at a time where he would have died otherwise. He did not think anyone had ever stood up for him before, not even any one of his angel siblings. With the gentle help of Sam, Castiel finally managed to stand on his feet.

He realized with a sense of dread exactly what those said orders must be. After all, a fallen angel was nothing but a liability. They would just kill him. "I can leave here, and not be anywhere near the Winchesters," Castiel proposed, and Anna turned her focus to Castiel.

"I am sorry, Brother, but you endanger us too," she told him plainly.

Dean continued to glare viciously into the hateful, brown eyes of Uriel. Uriel was different from the others Dean had met. He was a different breed of something else, even if Dean could not put his finger on it. "So... what? You're just gonna make him an angel again?" Dean asked Anna, although his eyes did not move from Uriel’s.

Dean was met with silence, and he finally surrendered in his staring contest to look to the other angels. "Once you lose your grace, there is no going back," Castiel answered when the others were silent. "They must terminate me."

Dean turned to Castiel in disgust. He did not understand this angel-on-angel violence. This was becoming weirder and weirder, and Dean was starting to think that God was not behind any of this at all.

"What the hell do you mean ‘terminate’? You're gonna kill him? I can see Rambo here being thirsty for blood… but Anna, you know better than this. There are other ways of preventing the apocalypse than killing your brother. Trust me, I should know," Dean reasoned, and Sam shot Dean a confused look. Dean would not allow any of this. He did not go through all the trouble of saving Castiel if he was just going to lead him to his death. Besides, he kind of owed him one.

"They are Zachariah's orders," Anna said, as if that would explain everything. "And he speaks on God's behalf. Castiel knows too much Dean. If a demon was to capture him-"

"I would not break," Castiel interrupted her.

"You would feel human pain, Castiel." Uriel snarled at his brother. He was growing more and more impatient. "You are more human than angel now, and you would break."

Dean knew more about torture and interrogation than anyone in this room could ever fathom, and he sneered to hear them speak as though they knew what it was like. He knew what both holding the blade and taking the blade felt like.

"You're not going to kill him. We'll keep him here, if we have to. No demon can enter." Dean knew how unrealistic it was. But no angel was going to kill another angel at a time where they all needed each other’s help the most. "You don't want to do this, Anna." His voice softened as he stepped up to her, knowing that if he was going to convince anyone, is was her. Dean had a feeling this asshole she came with was leading this mission, and that she had been pushed to the side.

"Dean... we can't just keep him prisoner in here," Sam sighed, and Bobby continued to stare from the shadows at the beings before him, a little overwhelmed. He held his shotgun close to him, but knew it was as useless as this room. In all his years of hunting, he never expected to be arguing with a group of idgit angels.

"What side are you on, Sam!?" Dean whipped around to him. That was a very good question to ask his brother. He was beginning question it more every day. Sam sighed and decided to keep his mouth shut. Now was not the time.

Anna’s expressionless face twitched with a faint hint of anguish, and she gritted her teeth in a very human manner. She could not afford to lose anymore of Dean's trust. He barely tolerated her as it was. "Fine, we will leave him in your hands. But if something happens then it is on your head, Dean Winchester."

"Fine," Dean snapped back, still not trusting them any more than he would a demon. He turned to look at the others, and in that instant, he heard the soft flapping of wings and knew the angels were gone. Castiel let out a long sigh of relief.

"Great, Dean. Now we have to babysit while we save the world," Sam grumbled, forgetting for a second that he was still only inches from Castiel. He shot him an awkward and apologetic look. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, he spent ten years in Hell to save me, I owed him one," He admitted to Sam and Bobby for the first time. He turned to Castiel and shot him an angry look. "But become a problem and we will gladly turn you over to your little 'friends' who aren't so generous.”

"I understand, and I will not be a problem," Castiel tried to reassure, although his tone lacked confidence. His knowledge of human culture was limited, and he did not know the first thing about blending in or taking care of this high maintenance body he was trapped inside.

"You must be starving," Dean turned to Castiel as he spoke a little more softly to him. He himself was hungry, and his stomach rumbled.

"With all the meds they put him on I'd be surprised if he eats for a week," Sam commented.

"They were very insistent on medication," Castiel nodded in agreement. He was not even really sure what hunger felt like. He had hardly eaten anything at the hospital, mostly oatmeal when he was actually able too. Yet he was curious about food, and the concept intrigued him.

"We can stay the night here, and if no demons come to attack we can figure out what to do tomorrow,” He shrugged, not knowing what else to do. He turned to his brother. “But I'm starving. Get us some bacon cheeseburgers. One for me and one for Cas here," Dean smirked. It would be hilarious to watch Castiel eat real food for the first time, and he could go for some comic relief right now.

"We can't all stay here. There’s not enough room, and I'm not as young as I used to be, I can't sleep on an iron floor," Bobby mumbled as he looked around at his beloved panic room and wished he had bought more army cots.

"Well, someone's gotta watch him," Sam said in reference to Castiel, still unable to break the habit of talking as if he was not there right in front of him.

"I'll stay in here with him. Just get the damn food, okay? And don't get killed on the way." Dean sighed in frustration. When he was hungry, his temper was short. Sam rolled his eyes and beckoned for Bobby to come with him out of the room.

Castiel watched both Sam and Bobby leave, and he was suddenly alone with Dean again. "Have I offended your brother in some way? He seems to not like me much at all," Castiel asked with a curious head tilt that Dean would soon grow very acquainted with. He was not so oblivious that he could not sense the distrust rolling off Sam in waves. "And what is a bacon cheeseburger?"

"Oh, you'll know soon enough." Dean grinned and chuckled. "And I think Sam is just disappointed. He thought angels would be different. He was into the whole God thing, believed in guardian angels, all that bullshit. And when he finally meets them for real, they are trying to kill each other and could care less about protecting us," Dean explained. He wished somehow he could have let Sammy continue believing in the furry winged, golden-rule abiding cherubs of his dreams.

"Ah, I suppose it would be disheartening. But there are angels that do care about protecting humans," Castiel told him, leaving the rest unsaid. He had always been fascinated by humans, perhaps more than most Angels, and he was sure he was not the only one. Others must just hide it better. "We have not walked the Earth in over two thousand years, so I believe humans got the wrong idea about us. We are warriors."

Dean snorted. Castiel still talked about angels as if he were still one of them, and Dean wondered when and if he would ever admit to being only human. "Yeah, I picked up on that. You're all dicks with wings, and I'm not convinced any of you know more than I do how to stop Lilith."

Castiel sighed, staring down at his own idle hands in his lap. "I don't know," he admitted to Dean. It had been a long time since he heard any news on the war front. Dean looked at Castiel like he did not quite believe him. And why should he? He knew Castiel knew something he did not, and to hell with ignorance is bliss.

"You have to know something. You have to know why it was me God wanted," he tried, but his voice was unsteady and shook a little, because Castiel's eyes were staring into his soul again. They had not told him, Castiel thought to himself. Why have they not told him yet?

"It's not my place to tell you," Castiel told him, and opened his mouth as if to say more, but speech had become difficult. He knew that if Dean asked him outright, he could refuse him nothing. Yet, there must be a reason the angels have chosen not to tell him.

Dean's glared angrily at Castiel, and slowly approached him until he was directly in front of him, meaning to intimidate. "You just admitted to knowing something huge about me, and you're still not gonna tell me? After I just saved your life?" He glared into those deep blue eyes. "Guess what, Cas... you're not God's child anymore. He punished you for no reason at all. You don't have to stay loyal to your brothers and sisters who wouldn't think twice before killing you."

Castiel looked down at his hands, avoiding Dean’s attempt at intimidation. He sighed, opening his mouth as if trying to find the right words to stumble upon. Dean realized then why the demons wanted him so badly. He would probably tell the demons secrets too, just this easily. Castiel would have to be watched closely.

"You know Lilith is breaking the seals…" Castiel began, his voice barely above a whisper."She could not be doing that if someone had not broken the first one. If a righteous man were to break in Hell... well, that was the first seal."

Dean stared at him in disbelief, unable to swallow it down. It could not be true "Wait a second," He shifted his weight onto his other foot, still inches from Castiel's body. "You're telling me.... I started the apocalypse?"

Castiel licked his lips nervously and nodded slowly. He hated having these new feelings and emotions and he hated the control Dean seemed to have over each and every one of them. Dean watched, hypnotized, when Castiel's tongue came to flick across his lips. He suddenly he felt like crying, but instead his body swelled with anger. It made sense. It fucking made sense, all of it. His hands gripped into tight fists of rage and he let out an angry growl of frustration, kicking a chair until it flew across the room, and Castiel flinched. It gave him little satisfaction.

"So it's all my goddamn fault, huh? All of it? Why the hell didn't you just leave me there then!?" He practically screamed.

"Because the man who started it is the only one who can end it. They did not tell me much, but that much I do know," Castiel knew that would provide Dean little comfort.

Dean sighed up to the ceiling, blinking away tears, fighting them back with strength he really did not have. He paced like a caged lion, the weight on his shoulders suddenly far too heavy to bear. He felt his back breaking with it.

"Well, they have the wrong guy," he snapped at Castiel. He was close to hysterics. "You should have left me there. I can't save the world, it's too big for me."

Castiel watched Dean pace, unsure what to do or say to bring him ease. He thought of what he would want to hear if he himself were in Dean’s unfortunate situation. "You can Dean, you can do it and you will. But you do not have to do it alone."

Dean kicked the desk until it practically flipped over, papers flying everywhere and raining down on them like snow. "Oh stop your bullshit! I was alone in Hell. I tortured alone. I alone started the apocalypse. It's all resting on my shoulders, Cas!" He shouted, but then deflated, collapsing down on the bed and covering his face in the palm of his hands. "Why the hell did you save me?"

"Because it was all part of The Plan," Castiel answered simply, kneeling down in front of Dean so they were eye level. "Everything happens for a reason. You going to hell, you being saved… even me becoming like this. There is a bigger picture here."

Dean snorted in disgust and glared at Castiel. "The apocalypse is all part of The Plan? Your God's Great Plan!? Tell me, Cas, what God would let all this shit happen? It isn't a plan, it's a mistake! We're losing! God isn't watching anymore, he never was!" He threw his arms in the air. "That lullaby might make you sleep better at night but it sure as hell doesn't reassure me. You're human now, Cas, start using that new brain of yours!"

"Humans can have faith too," Castiel told him, but he knew there was not point in arguing. "You don't think you deserved to be saved but you did, Dean. You are a good man. Your soul shone the brightest in Hell. You did not deserve to be there, and if I had to do it all over again, even knowing what I know now, I would do it all the same."

Dean didn't want to hear it. It somehow made it worse, having someone tell him he was blameless, when he would always know that was a lie. He threw the first match, and now the world is caught under fire.

"Shut up. Just shut up," Dean whined, and he could not look at Castiel, so far was he in hiding from himself.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Sam came through the door carrying two large bags. "Two bacon cheeseburgers and beer," He announced, tossing them to the bed. He was shocked when Dean did not even try to catch them, instead just staring at nothing with a faraway look on his face.

"You okay?" His brother asked. Dean finally moved to stand up, using strength he did not have.

"Fine," He answered shortly, and pushed past him. To hell with bottling things up and keeping them secret, this was too much right now. He decided that he needed fresh air, and ignoring his rumbling stomach, he walked out of the panic room.

Castiel watched him go with worried eyes, and it took him all of five seconds to decide to follow Dean. When he attempted to shove past Sam, however, Sam stopped Castiel with a hand on his chest. He wondered why this ex-angel was suddenly Dean's shadow.

“What did you say to him?” Sam asked, automatically assuming Castiel must be somehow responsible. His own guilty conscious nagging at him drew him to think of the demon blood in his veins, and he wondered if they had been talking about him.

"If he thinks you should know, he will tell you," Castiel answered simply, because he would not betray Dean's trust. "You should go check on him, if you will not allow me to do so."

Sam still did not trust Castiel, and gave him a look that told him just that. Maybe they were not just talking about him; Sam realized then that Castiel must know his secrets. "What are you now, his guardian angel?" He criticized, but before he could give Castiel time to answer, he grabbed the bag of food and beer and shoved it to Castiel. "Take this to him."

Castiel looked down at the bag with a confused expression before nodding and stepping out of the room and up the stairs. He found Dean sitting on Bobby’s front porch stairs, and after a short moment of hesitation he sat down beside him and handed him the bags... Dean jumped when suddenly Castiel was next to him and the food was by his feet, not having heard him approach. He recovered quickly from the shock and heaved a sigh.

"What is it with your kind and sneakin’ up on me? I'm gonna buy you all goddamn bells to wear around your neck," he threatened, and he had to smile to himself at the thought, knowing that Cas would miss the joke completely. After a few moments of fresh air and solitude, Dean had managed to stuff the earth shattering revelation where he kept the others. Hidden.

"This is for you. You may not know it but you're probably starving," Dean dug through the bag and pulled out one burger, landing it on Castiel's lap. "Unwrap and eat."

Castiel unwrapped the burger slowly as if it were a bomb ready to explode. "This is dead cow between bread," he stated, eying the burger warily. "I do not think I want to try this."

Dean bit into his dead cow on bread and moaned with pleasure to demonstrate how delicious it was, hoping to spark hunger in the fallen angel beside him. The moan did stir something deep inside of Castiel, but it did not make him want to eat the burger. The very smell of it was starting to make him feel ill. Deep down, Dean found the fact that Castiel did not want to eat animals incredibly enduring, but he decided he would never admit it. Instead, he laughed at him. It was a soft, genuine laugh that felt good on his soul.

"Yeah, well, you’re human now. We're mud monkeys, remember? We eat dead cow between bread. It's the cycle of life, it’s a beautiful thing. What, angels don't have canine teeth?" Dean grinned, showing off his own pair. Castiel ran his tongue across his top teeth as if he were making sure.

"Yes, but, I cannot eat this," he insisted, wrapping the burger back up and placing it back in the bag. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yes you can, Cas, it's delicious. You won't know until you try. Don't act so self righteous, I told you already, God's not watching," he shoved the bag closer to Cas. He was teasing more than anything now, a soft amused smirk planted on his face. "If you don't eat you'll pass out. It's not like possessing a body. This body is yours. You gotta feed it."

Castiel sighed and picked the burger back up. Dean was right; he should at least try it. He figured it would be best to get it over with quickly, and he took a small bite of the burger before promptly spitting it back out and turning to dry heave over the side of the porch.

No, he was not meant to eat dead flesh. Of this, he was now certain.

Dean held back laughter before he stood and went to Castiel. "Oh, come on, you're not gonna throw up. What is it with you people and being dramatic?" He teased affectionately and slapped him on the back as he coughed. "Fine, I won't make you eat it. Here, wash the taste down with this," he suggested, and popped off a cap of a beer and handed it to Castiel. He realized that he was probably being cruel, but Dean could really use the amusement right now.

Castiel was even paler when he sat up and he took the bottle from Dean, not thinking twice before taking a swig and was hit by an even fouler taste. He quickly spewed it out. "I do not think I trust your judgment in food or drink anymore," he told him.

Dean laughed again and took the beer, taking a swig of his own. "This is how humans eat, Cas. You'll get used to the beer,” he sighed. Castiel was nothing if not stubborn, but Dean realized if he did not eat soon he would waste away to nothing. “I know a place to take you. There's a vegetarian-vegan-tree-hugging-dirt-worshipper place down the street."

Dean threw an arm loosely around his companion's shoulder, coaxed him to stand, and walked him to the car. Castiel could not shake off the warm feeling he got when Dean put his arm around his shoulders, but he did not think on it long, because he soon realized where he was being led. Castiel did not like cars, especially Dean’s giant monster of a car. He was unconscious when the brothers drove him to Bobby’s, but he remembered falling and waking up in the back of a confining police vehicle. He missed just being able to flint around from place to place with only a thought.

"Can we walk?"

Dean knew right away why Castiel was hesitant, and he rolled his eyes again. "You're killin' me, Cas," he sighed, but stopped anyway. "One mile up the road and you'll keel over in exhaustion, and I'm not carrying you. Now, I'm done spoiling you. Get in the car," he ordered, and held the door open for him. "This isn't Heaven anymore, you gotta do stuff you don't wanna do."

Castiel swallowed nervously and got into the Impala. This was the way humans traveled, and it was slow and confining, but he would have to get used to it. When Dean shut the door and got into the car beside him, he asked something that he had been curious about.

"Why do you not like saying my full name?"

Dean started up his beloved car and thought about speeding just to scare Castiel, but he thought better of it, not wanting to give him a heart attack after spending all day saving his life. His question should not have surprised him, but it did.

"Well, Cas, do you want me to call you by your full name? Just because you used to be an angel doesn't mean I'm going to talk formally to you all the time," he chuckled. "You're such a tight ass, giving you a nickname will loosen you up."

Castiel frowned, still not really understanding the concept of a nickname, but he had a feeling that he would not understand a lot of what Dean said and did most of the time. It was not that he did not like being called 'Cas', it was just that no one had ever called him anything different before. "Oh," he answered, not knowing how else to respond.

***

Dean grinned in the diner when Castiel’s order came. It was a vegetarian salad, with every option of dressing he could ever want on the side so he could pick which one he liked. "Well, you wanted to eat like a brontosaurus… so here you go. Dig in," Dean encouraged as he sat back with his beer and watched in amusement.

Castiel was a bit hesitant, considering Dean's earlier choice of what he considered food, but the salad did look good. He did not even try the dressing as he stabbed a piece of lettuce with his fork and popped it into his mouth, making a happy noise in the back of his throat before really digging in. He had not realized this was what his body had been crying out for until now.

Dean watched as Castiel engulfed the salad and sighed. He had hoped that bringing him here to this place and throwing a healthy salad at him would bring back his appetite for real food, but none such luck. He laughed anyway and sipped his beer. "A salad won't fill you up, you know. You need a real meal. I've got an idea," he smirked, and called the waitress over. He pointed to a spot on the menu and she smiled and nodded before walking away.

"But this is good…" Castiel tried to insist as he took a bite out of a cucumber. More than half the salad was already gone and he did not even put his fork down to take a sip of water. Dean reached across the small table and stilled Castiel's hand as it shoveled salad into his mouth.

"Water is good too. It keeps us alive,” the hunter hinted, and slid the tall glass closer to him. His hand had tingled when it touched his, as if he felt sparks between them, and for a moment he felt an ache in his arm where he knew he was scarred. Before he could think anything of it, the waitress laid a plate of angel food cake down in between them.

Castiel forgot all about the salad at the sight of the cake suddenly in front of him. "What is that?"

Dean smirked and slid the cake towards himself after seeing Castiel's blue eyes light up. "What, this? Oh, it’s nothing. It's disgusting, you'd hate it," he teased, and made a disgusted face as he slowly sliced the cake with his fork.

"It does not look disgusting," Castiel said, still eying the cake. He licked his lips as Dean cut it with his fork. "May I try it?"

Dean had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He saw the hope brighten his eyes and it reminded him of a begging puppy. "You must have gotten your senses all screwy when you fell ‘cuz this is terrible," he smirked, keeping the cake close to himself as his fork cut the next piece just as painfully slow as the first. He brought another piece to his lips and he chewed slowly, closing his eyes and moaning loudly in pleasure to rub it in Castiel's face. Castiel had not had a lot of time to interact with humans on a social basis, but Dean, in particular, seemed to constantly confuse him.

"You seem to be enjoying it," he stated in a neutral tone.

Dean rolled his eyes and finally gave in. Castiel was never going to stop until he got it, but he was not going to steal it. "Oh for christsakes. You can have a tiny bit," He took Castiel's fork and sliced him a small sliver, only one or two bites worth, and handed it to him. He did so right before taking a huge bite for himself, and holding back a grin.

Castiel chewed slowly, closing his eyes in pleasure as he tasted sugar for the first time. Unfortunately, the small bite did not last long and he went back to staring at Dean.

Dean did laugh then. "What are you doing, workin' a mind meld?" He teased, not really expecting Castiel to get the joke, and gave an exasperated sigh before shoving the plate with the rest of the cake over to him. "You feed a stray once and they keep comin' back.”

Castiel had a little smile on his lips as Dean pushed the plate over to him. He did not realize it, but he had just had his first lesson in manipulation. He dug in with gusto and asked Dean around bites, "Stray what?"

Dean watched Castiel with an amused grin. "Don't worry about it."

***

Dean thought it was kind of sad how much fun he had the rest of that night. It reminded him of the days before there were angels and the apocalypse, days when he still got along with Sam and they were not blaming each other for the end of the world.

Dean still did not trust Castiel to run away in the middle of the night. With the state he was in, Dean was afraid the guy might just get curious and wander around and get lost in the process. If that happened, the demons would get their sticky hands on him in an instant, and there would be no more cake for him in the future. For some reason, something deep inside of Dean could not let that happen.

Dean slipped the key to the spare bedroom of Bobby’s house into his back pocket as he collapsed onto the nearest bed. Castiel sat down on the other bed on the opposite side of the room, not really knowing what to do with himself. Yet with sugar in his body, Castiel was finding that his human existence much more enjoyable since Dean had found him. When he had been in the hospital, he had done nothing but want to go home. Now, he wanted to explore more human things. He wanted to know more about Dean.

After so many beers, Dean was a little buzzed and did not feel much like tucking Castiel in and telling him a bedside story. He would have to make himself comfortable himself. Sleep came quickly and easily for Dean, as it usually did. After a few hours, however, the nightmares crept in like demons trapped in his head, playing with his subconscious. He was trapped, unable to wake, and tied down in Hell. His body broke out into a sweat as the flames licked his body and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

When Dean began thrashing around in his sleep, Castiel hesitated only for a moment before going to him. He recognized that Dean was having a bad dream, but he did not know how to help. "Dean," he said softly as he sat down beside the other man and reached out for him. His hand found the mark he had left on Dean's shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

In his nightmare, Dean was pulled from Hell as if he were being pulled from quicksand. He jumped awake, gasping loudly for air. He heaved and he tried to shove the person near him away but the hand on his shoulder steadied him, and he opened his eyes to focus on two pools of deep blue. It instantly sedated him. Until, of course, he realized who it was.

At first, Dean's defensive wall came up and his eyes narrowed in anger towards the figure of Castiel above him. He felt a little violated, like he had been spied on, like Castiel had stolen a glimpse into his soul without permission. Dean punished himself by carrying this burden alone and only alone. No one else could understand what he had been through in Hell. He carried a large part of Hell with him even after he broke free, and his body was covered with the invisible scars to prove it. Only one, however, left a physical trace.

Castiel was the only one who really did know, who really did understand, and the thought overwhelmed Dean. And yet now, he did not have to explain or hide or act stronger than he was, like he did with Sam or Bobby, and there was something undeniably comforting about that. Half delirious from the nightmare still swimming in his head, he reached his hand out to cup Castiel's cheek in the palm of one shaky hand in the darkness that covered them.

The touch surprised Castiel, and he let out a small surprised, yet happy sound he did not even know he could make. He could not remember ever being touched so gently before. Dean's hand lingered in the dark, cupping his warmth in the palm of his hand before his hand shook again and he reclaimed it as fast as if it had burned him. He swallowed nervously after he realized what he had done and his head cleared. He coughed as if to clear his throat and it sliced the silence between them.

"What are you doing awake, Cas?" He whispered. Castiel blinked a few times, confused by the sudden loss of physical contact and the question.

"I was watching you sleep."

He knew Castiel's answer should have startled him, but Dean simply laughed, remembering Castiel's inability to lie. It was funny how he could come out of Hell ready to laugh like this. But he felt safe now, as if his hand was still gripping him tightly. It was a feeling Dean very rarely felt these days. He would be an idiot to push it away.

"Why were you watching me sleep?" He asked with the smallest hint of a smirk. "Humans don't do that, Cas."

Castiel frowned, "You looked very peaceful," he explained. He had not been aware he had done anything un-human like. "Until you began dreaming. Do all humans dream?"

Dean realized he would just have to get used to the strange things Castiel said. It was then that he realized something else. "You don't know how to sleep, do you?" He asked him. He wondered when Castiel would realize that he is not what he used to be, and his body had demands. "You never have... they just drugged you until you passed out at the hospital. You were just going to sit in bed and stare at me all night?”

Castiel cocked his head to the side as he thought about it. "Angels do not sleep, so I have never needed to try," he shrugged, in the same way he had seen other humans do. His eyes lingered to Dean's lips and the smile forming there, but it was not quite there yet, and his curiosity got the better of him. He reached out to trace Dean's lips with his fingertips.

Dean stared in awe of Castiel as the fallen angel’s fingers reached to touch him, and he let them linger longer than he should have before his own hand came to wrap around Castiel's wrist and guide him away. "Hey," He whispered, suddenly unable to find Castiel's eyes in the darkness anymore. His voice was soft but meant to get his attention and pull him out of whatever trance led him to touch his lips like that.

He sat up in bed and reached to slide Castiel's jacket off his shoulders. He wondered how fallen angels handled the weather on Earth. "First of all, we don't sleep in jackets,” he smirked again, undressing Castiel of the outer layer of clothing and casting the jacket onto the floor. "Lay down on your back," He instructed.

Castiel let Dean guide his jacket off, his brow knitted in confusion. "Oh... okay," he said, lying down beside Dean obediently, his body stiff and ridged and unable to relax as he did.

Dean, still sitting up in the bed, watched him. "First, remove the stick up your ass and relax. You won't get to sleep otherwise," he teased with an affectionate smile. As he waited to give Castiel a chance to relax his new body, Dean grabbed the warm covers and pulled them over his body until it was mostly hidden underneath them. "Now close your eyes," he instructed, and Castiel did so trustingly. Dean almost hated saying it. He loved his eyes open.

Castiel tried inhaling deeply, and the smell of Dean all around him made him finally relax. "What if I can't sleep?" He whispered.

Dean grinned again. "You kiddin' me? After falling from Heaven and getting chased by demons, you don't feel tired? I'm beat to Hell, no pun intended," he teased. He shifted so he leaned over Castiel, a complete reversal of their previous positions when Dean was shaken awake to Castiel's blue eyes staring down into his.

"Take a few deep breaths," Dean whispered, his voice calm and steady as if he were trying to hypnotize him. "Think of something that relaxes you. If... anything relaxes you. Keep your eyes closed and focus on the warmth of the bed."

Castiel did as he was told and he thought of Dean's hazel-green eyes as he relaxed even further into the bed. His breathing evened out and soon he was fast asleep, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.

Dean watched as sleep finally claimed him, and realized that he finally looked human. He watched him until he realized that he was doing it. He looked across the room to the other bed, the one that Castiel was supposed to be sleeping in, and sighed. He convinced himself he was too tired to care and settled down in the same bed with Castiel, so close he could feel the fallen angel’s warmth. Usually, a nightmare about Hell made Dean never want to sleep another night of his life, but he closed his eyes and listened to Castiel breathe and a peaceful sleep found him quickly.

Castiel snuggle closer to Dean until he was half laid out on top of him with his face buried in Dean's shoulder. Dean slept that night as if he had not slept at all since his return, safe in the warmth they created. With one arm thrown casually above his head, the other came to drape protectively around Castiel’s shoulders.

That was how he woke the next morning, but it was not a peaceful transition brought on by the sun from the window or a call of a rooster.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Something had pulled Dean out of sleep like a violent slap across the face, and this time it was not because of a nightmare. He noticed right away that Castiel had snuggled his way into his arms, and shocked, he pulled away and created a safe distance between them. He blamed it on the fallen angel's lack of acknowledgement of the personal space of humans and ignored the fact that he had slept better than he had in forty years.

That was when the uneasy feeling that they were not alone settled in, and he slowly turned to face someone familiar. "You!" He growled angrily. "You bastard, I killed you!"

Gabriel had only one regret after he left Heaven. That current regret was now here on Earth, snuggling up to a human that Gabriel disliked immensely and looking way too lost and vulnerable.

Gabriel was the second angel God created and the only one with a sense of humor. While Michael had been the first and called the “Prince of Heaven” and Lucifer had been created after Gabriel and was called the “Most Beautiful”, Gabriel was the so-called ‘middle child’. When God created the lesser ranking angels and then later made humans, Gabriel had loved humanity, and God made him his Messenger.

Michael, Gabriel, and Lucifer were the 'favored three' as other angels called them. They were the only ones to ever know God's true face. The dawn of humankind changed the air in Heaven, however, and one angel in particular began to doubt their maker.

Lucifer, jealous of humans, was beat down by Michael and imprisoned forever in darkness and the absence of his father. Gabriel's family had been torn apart, and he thought his world had ended. That was when God created Castiel and left Gabriel to watch over him. God had never commanded an angel to watch over another, and Gabriel had asked why.

God just smiled, "This one is very special."

That was an understatement, in Gabriel's opinion. It was obvious that Castiel was just different. He was an innocent, awkward soul even around his own kind. He was smaller than the other angels, but his grace burned just as brightly as an archangel's. It was brighter than Michael’s or even Gabriel’s himself. It was brighter than Lucifer's, whose very name meant 'light bringer.' Castiel was just different, and he was not welcomed into the fold as most angels were when they were created. He was automatically an outcast. So Gabriel took the fledgling under his wing, so to speak.

He taught him not to cower away from the others but hold his head up high. He taught him to fly and taught him everything he knew about human kind. Castiel was, as humans might put it, an encyclopedia of knowledge and he soaked up Gabriel's teachings like a sponge. Gabriel taught him how to be a brave, loyal soldier of The Lord, a righteous lover of good.

There came a day, however, when Castiel did not need him anymore and he had not heard the magnificent voice of God for far too long, and a deep, lonely hush fell over Heaven. Angry, Gabriel left and hid himself on the Earth he loved so much, masking himself as a demigod and making use of his sense of humor.

Yet he was not feeling very humorous when he found Castiel curled up in bed with Dean Winchester.

"You can't kill me," Gabriel told the hunter with a holier-than-thou smirk across his human lips. He kept Castiel asleep with a little angelic mojo. He wanted to spare him as much as he could. "Tell me this Dean, why does everything you touch turn to ashes? First, you break the first seal, starting to apocalypse. And then you cause an angel of Heaven to fall to Earth. Do you have any idea how hard that is to do?"

Dean took his eyes off of the trickster just long enough to glance over at Castiel, who was still sleeping soundly, but not naturally. The bastard was keeping him asleep, but had forced Dean awake. He turned to glare back at Gabriel. "Oh, it was just a piece of cake," Dean sneered. "Wasn't hard at all, I guess. And killing you a second time won't be so difficult either." He stood from the bed and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

Gabriel did nothing more than wave a hand and Dean suddenly found himself stuck to the wall. "Your arrogance still amazes me," he sighed, bored with this human’s attempt to intimidate. No wonder this human was Michael’s true vessel. They were both assholes.

Gabriel glanced over to the sleeping figure on the bed and his angry scowl softened noticeably. He would not allow Castiel to get involved in this apocalyptic bullshit anymore. He should have taken him with him when he left and he would not be in this situation now. Well, he could still protect his brother, by getting them as far away from the Winchesters as he could. He walked over to the bed and ran his hand softly through Castiel's messy black hair, trying to decide if it was safe to transport the sleeping half-angel or if he should just carry him out of here.

Dean coughed and sputtered and gasped for air, his hands clawing at the invisible ones choking him and holding him flat and powerless against the wall. But it did not mean he was going to stop fighting. He had killed this bastard once, and he meant it when he said he would do it again.

But something was off about this trickster, Dean decided. He recognized it the instant he saw the way he looked down at Castiel, who was still blissfully ignorant in the innocence of sleep. Dean fought twice as hard against the invisible force when he saw the trickster approach Castiel.

"Don’t touch him!" Dean coughed and kicked his legs until he bashed holes in the wall from the fury of his struggle. Dean's anger made Gabriel look back at him, and look deep into his soul. Dean had feelings for Castiel, not that the hard-headed man had realized it yet. Gabriel let Dean go with another wave of his hand.

"Why so protective? He would do nothing but hold you back," he stated, fishing around to see if Dean was aware of how he felt. "He was a pretty angel... it figures that he would be a pretty boy.”

Dean fell to the floor in a panting heap and stumbled to stand quickly, despite his aching body. He recognized that look the trickster gave him. It was the way every angel looked at him, like he was raping his soul. He allowed Castiel to look at him that way, but not this asshole.

"What the fuck are you!? You'd better tell me, so I can be quicker with sending you right back to wherever the hell you came," he snarled as soon as he could speak, taking a few brave steps closer. He turned to the sleeping Castiel whose face was still soft with sleep. The trickster, or whatever the hell he was, did not want to hurt him. If he did, he would have done so already. There was something else he wanted, Dean realized.

"Cas, wake up," the hunter tried to use his voice to stir him out of his coma. Gabriel rolled his eyes and allowed Castiel to wake.

Castiel gradually came too, hearing Dean calling his name. He reached over to the empty spot beside him in the bed where Dean should have been. When he felt nothing but cold sheets, his blue eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly, scared that the man had left.

"Dean?" He asked his voice hoarse with sleep and a bit shaky at the thought of being alone. When he spotted Dean standing in the room he let out a breath of relief. When he saw the shorter man in the room, however, his eyes widened in shock. "Gabriel?" He asked, unsure. He had never seen him in human form before.

Gabriel smiled at him. "So you can still see souls? It’s good to know you still got some angel mojo. How are you, Little Brother?" He asked, his voice softening with worry, and Dean stared in shock, his jaw dropping to the floor.

"Human," said Castiel miserably before he looked away, feeling ashamed.

"Gabriel? The Gabriel? You're telling me this piece of shit trickster who iced me over and over again is an archangel?!" He stared in disgust at Gabriel. "So what... you've come to make him feel like crap about bein' human? Well, you can blame Daddy for that."

Gabriel just raised a mocking eyebrow. "You are one to talk, Winchester. You have 'Daddy Issues' tattooed on your forehead. No, I've come to take Castiel somewhere safe," he said, turning to Castiel and holding out his hand. "Come on, little brother, it's time we blew this popsicle stand," he smiled, and seeing Cas' confusion he rolled his eyes. "It means we are leaving this place."

Castiel's frown only deepened. "Gabriel, I will not leave," he said forcefully, and Gabriel was shocked.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's too dangerous for you here," Gabriel snorted, but Castiel’s eyes brightened like they did when his too-smart-for-his-own-good- mind got an idea. "You could carve the sigils into my ribs. Then no angel or demon could find me."

The instant Dean realized Gabriel's intentions he stepped in between them to act as a brick wall, never mind the fact that he was a human in between an arch angel and fallen angel. "So you're both an arch angel and a trickster? Why aren’t you warm and cozy up in Heaven? You get kicked out too?" He interrogated, not letting him get away without answering some burning questions. He deserved to know, after all, considering their violent past together.

Dean continued to eye Gabriel suspiciously. Castiel had recognized him instantly for what he was, but tricksters were crafty and he was not going to believe anything without cold, hard proof. And even if he was Gabriel the Archangel, why did Castiel hesitate to leave with him? Gabriel was promising to take Castiel, heal him, and maybe even put him back in Heaven where he belonged. Is that not what he wanted?

"And how do I know this isn't a trick?" Dean accused. He did not know how he would do it; but he was not going to let him take one step closer towards Castiel. Demons were still on the hunt for the fallen angel, and they were probably getting desperate. Maybe they (had) employed this son of a bitch to steal him.

"You do realize I could send you to Brazil just with a thought," Gabriel turned to give Dean another bored expression. He did not have to prove anything to this mud monkey. He turned back to Castiel, ignoring the human. "Castiel, don't be crazy. Do you have any idea what pain is? You will if I carve those sigils. I have safe place for you to hide out the rest of the war at. You stay here, and you are putting yourself in the middle of it."

"I'm staying here," Castiel insisted again, reaching out to hold onto the back of Dean's shirt as if that would prevent Gabriel from just taking him. Dean was startled and he turned back to look at him in confusion.

"Prove to me you’re what you say you are. I'm not sure I'm even convinced, especially because you won't tell me why you are also a trickster," Dean demanded, interrupting them.

"I don't have to prove myself to you!" Gabriel snapped, and advanced angrily towards Dean, but Castiel stepped in to block his way.

"Gabriel, no…" Castiel pleaded softly, and Gabriel stopped. He looked deep into his brother’s eyes and knew.

"Oh, Castiel, you love too easily," he groaned. Castiel looked away with a blush.

Dean did not understand what that meant, and he shrugged it off, because more important things were at stake here. "I don't think you understand. Cas here is ours, we found him first, and it looks like being human gave him a little bit of free will to let him decide what he wants and what he doesn't want."

"Yours huh?" Gabriel snickered at the hunter before he turned his focus back on Castiel. "This is what you want?" He asked one more time, and when Castiel nodded, he threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Fine, you can stay for now," he sighed, but turned to Dean with a threatening glare. "But if any harm comes to him, you will have a very pissed off archangel on your ass and I'm not like the foot soldiers you are used to dealing with. If Castiel is going to stay with you idiots, I need to mark him up with the sigils. So move out of my way," he growled, and pushed Dean away.

Dean sneered in anger. "Any harm? He spent ten years in Hell and fell to Earth all because God commanded it of him. And you're telling me not to harm him? I saved his life, dammit," he talked back to him. "I said don't touch him." He glared daggers into Gabriel's cold, dead eyes.

"Dean," Castiel said, gripping his arm. "This will help. They will not be able to find me. I will be hidden from both angels and demons." He would not act anymore like a beacon leading them straight to the Winchester brothers. Sam and Dean did not need any more problems and Castiel did not want to be even more of a burden. "Please, let him do this," he added, unintentionally giving Dean 'puppy eyes’.

Dean looked down at Castiel’s hand on his arm. He sure as hell was a touchy feely thing, wasn't he? Dean was not used to touchy-feely, but when he looked up to see those blue doe eyes of his, he did not even try to protest anymore. If Castiel wanted to make bad decisions, they would be his bad decisions.

"Whatever," Dean grumbled and stepped aside. "But I'm here with a gun. I may not be able to kill you with it but it would sure as hell hurt, especially in your ball sac. I also don't think my friend Mr. Sharpened Wooden Stake would mind some use either."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, once again ignoring Dean and turning his attention back to Castiel. "Lay down on the bed. This is going to hurt like a bitch," he told him. "You are not used to human pain, it will be overwhelming for you and I don't want to worry about you hitting the floor while I do this."

Castiel nodded as he lay down obediently. Gabriel decided that he better make this quick and laid his hand on Castiel's chest and with a sharp, blinding flash of light, it was done. Castiel arched off the bed and let out a scream that was part human and part otherworldly. He shattered the windows in the room before Gabriel put his hand over his mouth to prevent him from taking out the human's eardrums as well.

When it was done, Castiel laid very still, eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. When Gabriel took his hand away Castiel was panting as if he had run a mile. Dean had fallen to the floor in order to protect himself when the glass shattered and the high pitched scream that threatened to shatter his hearing.

When finally Dean knew it was over and he heard the quick, panicked panting of Castiel, he opened his eyes and took his hands off his ears and angrily turned towards the trickster. "What did you do to him?!" He demanded.

Gabriel laughed at Dean. "I had to carve the sigils directly into his ribs. I told him in would hurt. He'll be okay in a few days," he shrugged. Castiel was still panting, his arms wrapped around his sore ribs.

"Then I guess your work is done and you can get the hell out," Dean growled. His voice was rough and demanding and he did not wait for the archangel to obey before he walked over to Castiel.

"Cas, you idiot," he scolded, but his voice was a low, gentle whisper. He sat down next to him on the bed and lifted his plain white T-shirt to investigate, but he found only the undamaged smoothness of his slim but toned chest and abdomen. Unsatisfied, he looked on his sides, still finding no signs of injury. He did not want to probe further. Moving must hurt Castiel if what Gabriel said he did was true. He sighed and pulled his shirt back down to cover him.

"I'll be watching you," Gabriel gave Dean a look before he disappeared into thin air.

Castiel groaned. "I feel like my ribs are on fire. Can that happen?" He asked worriedly

Worry settled in Dean and he furrowed his eyebrows to show it. He leaned over him on the bed, the same intimacy between them that had been so comforting before. To be honest, he didn't know what the hell Gabriel did to Castiel, and for all he knew, his ribs really were on fire.

"No, it can't. Calm down and breathe slowly, it will hurt less if you do." Dean could not imagine panting with bruised ribs, nevertheless carved ones.

When Castiel still did not monitor his breathing, Dean pulled his shirt up again, this time all the way, and laid a palm on his chest over his heart to feel its erratic, panicked rhythm. "Breathe slowly, Cas. Your heart's goin' crazy," He warned.

"My heart?" Castiel asked shakily, and he concentrated on the feel of Dean's hand against his skin.

"Yes, idiot, you have one now," Dean scorned, but instantly regretted it. His face softened and he looked down in pity as Castiel. His breathing had finally slowed to a normal pace. "Good boy," he whispered softly, knowing by now that Castiel responded much better to praise than criticism. "Some pain killers will do you good. Bobby has a bunch. He doesn't take ‘em," he thought out loud, not knowing what else to do.

Dean was an odd human, Castiel thought to himself. One moment his tone was angry, the next it was soft and soothing. Castiel closed his eyes, listening to Dean's voice.

"It will pass," Castiel whispered hopefully.

Dean ignored Castiel's half-hearted optimism and remembered what Gabriel said about taking days to recover. He did not like the sound of that at all. It made him and everyone else in this house more vulnerable. And who was going to babysit this guy while they were out saving the world?

"So that was the archangel Gabriel? What a dick. I thought my family was dysfunctional, but yours is way worse," he scoffed. "Why didn't you go with him? Isn't that what you wanted? You may not get a second chance to go home."

"Gabriel could not restore me to the way I was. He just wanted to hide me until all this was over. He has always been… overprotective," he explained. "I can help you and Sam and I know you do not believe me. You think I am weak," he added, picking up some of Dean's thoughts.

Before Dean could respond, he heard a car pull up the driveway and Sam's voice outside. "What the hell happened to the window?!" His brother shouted, and Dean heard the sound of boots storming into the house and up the staircase. "Dean?" Sam called.

For some reason unknown to him, Dean was quick to pull down Castiel's T-shirt to cover him back up when he heard his brother's voice. "Just don't talk if it hurts. Just lay and relax," he instructed Castiel before jumping up off the bed and standing in the room.

"Relax, we're okay," Dean called out. "Other than the fact that some asshole archangel named Gabriel was actually that trickster that nearly killed us, and he gave Castiel a little cosmetic surgery." Part of him was angry that Sam had not been there with him to help fight this thing, and another part of him was glad he had missed it.

Sam tucked his gun away at took in the scene before him. "Oh," he said dumbly, not knowing the appropriate response to something like that. “Is he okay? Are you okay?” He asked, deciding that that was the only thing that mattered.

Dean nodded. “Cas just needs to relax. His big brother scribbled some crap on his ribs, so I’m cuttin’ him a break.”

Sam nodded and gave the fallen angel a sympathetic look before turning back to his brother. "Bobby's got a job for us," he told him, just as they heard Bobby's truck pulled in and the older man cursing up a storm when he got a look at his disheveled house.

Dean sighed and rushed out of the room. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, finding Vicodin, and then walked into kitchen to get a glass of water. He decided instead on a bottle of whiskey and rushed back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed beside Castiel. "Got some medicine for you, I don't have a spoon full of sugar but I do have some nice, tasty narcotics. Here," Dean held out two pills, but then remembered that Castiel will need at least double the dosage, and just handed him the whole bottle. He took a swig of the whiskey first before also handing that to the fallen angel.

Sam stood in the doorway with his arms crossed as he observed the scene before him. He had never seen Dean take instantly to anyone before, especially strangers. Dean always had been great with kids, but he very rarely trusted adults. Castiel definitely had an innocent, child-like vibe about him, but all you had to do was look into those ancient, blue eyes and realize he was not all that he appeared to be. Sam watched as Castiel took the pills from Dean and downed them with the whiskey, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the taste.

"Dean, can I talk to you... alone?" Sam asked.

Dean initially acted like he did not hear Sam and watched with a smirk as Castiel downed a large sip of the whiskey. "Now do that sleep thing I taught you, huh? And stay lying on your back," he instructed, and knowing that he would be knocked out soon, he turned back to Sam. He walked out of the room and followed his brother into the kitchen. They could hear Bobby grumbling in the other room.

"Dean, what is going on? And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I've never seen you act like this with anybody. Castiel shows up and suddenly you're all mother hen."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed him and Sam each a beer. "Sam, he's only been with us one day. Just because I didn't let the other angels kill him, I'm his mother hen?" He asked, a little defensively. "What, are you jealous? At least he's not a fucking demon," Dean snapped, twisting the metaphorical knife in Sam's side and Dean instantly regretted it. It was a bad time to bring up Ruby. It was a bad time to bring up the fact that Sam had chosen a crazy bitch demon over him, but dammit, he had no right to talk.

"Listen, Sammy, I’m sorry,” he tried to apologize quickly, and Sam looked down at his beer and was silent. Dean tried to change the subject back to Castiel. “That dude in there is the reason I am here today, right now. The least I could do was save him, too," he tried to explain.

"Right, okay then," Sam said as he took a sip of his beer, knowing that there was more to it than that. He could not help but think that Castiel was not all he claimed to be. In these dark times, it was hard to trust anyone. Hell, they could not even trust each other. "We still have a job to do. He can stay here with Bobby until he's on his feet again, but he can’t just stay with us."

Dean took a few intimidating steps closer and glared at his brother. "You listen to me, okay? I can't possibly explain to you what it was like for me down there. Even if I wanted to, you'd never in your wildest nightmares believe or understand what I went through." Emotion swelled in his heart and soul and it showed in the anger on his face. "So excuse me for finding relief in someone who has seen it too. If you don't want to deal with him- then fine, no one's making you. He's not your responsibility."

Dean just had to pull the Hell card on him, knowing it was the fasted way to shut him up. Sam had to look away, unable to look at his brother. "But why is he your responsibility? I just... I got a bad feeling about him," he said quietly. Maybe he was jealous, he thought. After all, Dean had looked after him his whole life, and now Dean was looking after someone else.

"He's harmless. Gabriel carved on his ribs or something so no angel or demon can find him. He is in pain because-" Dean stopped there. Castiel suffered this pain willingly, and for what? So he could stay with Dean. It just did not make sense to him. "Anyway, I think he should come with us. He can't fight whatever we run into but he can still be close to us." Dean did not really understand why that was important, but he just could not imagine leaving him here with Bobby. Not when his ribs were just mutilated.

"Dean, you can't be serious. He may have been an angel but he's human now. He's not a hunter, he's human and he could really get hurt," Sam argued, trying to be reasonable. "Look, maybe next time, if we have some time to train him, but right now he’s practically demon bait."

Dean shifted on his feet from annoyance and took a deep breath to calm his anger, not wanting to admit that what Sam said made sense. Not wanting to argue anymore, he gave in. "Fine, he'll stay here," he sighed. "I’ll go tell him."

He sighed and walked back to the bedroom, finding Castiel half asleep on the bed, and it was clear that the pain killers not having hit him hard yet. He did not sit down on the bed but leaned over him. "Cas?" He was met with glazed over blue eyes. "I'll be back soon I got a job to do. You gotta stay here with Bobby and heal."

"You are leaving? I'm coming with you," Castiel insisted before attempting to sit up and groaning in pain. Dean gently prevented Castiel from moving with a gentle hand on his chest.

"No, man, you gotta stay here. I'll be back soon and you'll be fine here, Cas," he assured, not understanding Castiel's attachment to him anymore than he understood his own.

Castiel did not want to be alone. "I cannot watch over you if you are not here," he told Dean simply, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world. The drugs were making him drowsy and he was fighting against them, the same way he had fought against the drugs in the hospital.

Dean chuckled. So this is why Castiel insisted on staying with him? In his line of work, he would need more than an injured-turned-human angel on his shoulder.

"You're not my guardian angel… and I'm a big boy who can take care of myself. You, on the other hand, need to stay in bed."

Castiel looked ready to argue but the pain in his ribs made him stop. "How long will you be gone?" He asked instead.

Dean shrugged slowly, deciding to do some dodging of questions himself. It was only fair. "Go to sleep. It will stop the pain. And don't overdo those pills," he told him before standing to leave the room, because he felt as though if he did not do it now he never would.

Castiel wanted to call him back, but he knew this was for the best. He would just stay here and heal, and patiently wait for Dean to come back.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Day 1: Messages

Dean, it’s Bobby. Your angel’s staying on his meds and asking too many questions, but I haven’t killed him yet, so don’t worry. I gave him a book to keep him quiet.

Day 4: Messages

I know you boys are in those mountains and don’t have service, but featherhead wanted to talk to Dean, so give us a call when you can. That kid goes through books faster than anything I’ve ever seen. He already read everything in my library and speaks every language I’ve thrown at him, even the dead ones. I’ve got him translating stuff now... He’s not been eating much. I stuck to veggies like you said, but he just sort of picks at them... Anyway, you boys keep safe.

Day 7: Messages

Dean, I think you boys should hurry on home... I don’t think Cas has been sleeping, and he may be getting a bit too friendly with my pain killers. And I can’t get him to eat a thing.

Day: 9

You boys need to come home... now.

***

Dean's hands shook as he started the ignition and his beloved impala purred with pleasure. He had missed her, and for a while he had thought he might never see her again. It had been a close one in there, and it seemed like all the random jobs they did just to keep their minds off of the impending doom of the apocalypse nearly killed them each and every time. Dean was amazed his phone still had a charge, although it was taking its last breath. When he turned it on, it rang insistently with voicemails.

His driving got faster and faster with each message, and by the time his phone died, he was running stop signs and red lights, and Sam woke up quickly from his nap. "What the hell, Dean? Is someone chasing us?" He asked, looking out all windows and looking for whatever it could be. Dean just glared ahead, speeding faster.

"No. I got like fifty calls from Bobby and none of them sound good. He’s been trying to reach us the whole time. Something's wrong or else he wouldn't be." His mind swam with the possible things that could have gone wrong as he white knuckled the steering wheel.

***

Castiel had stopped speaking after the nightmare. He refused to eat or sleep and Bobby finally had to hide the pain meds. Detoxing an angel hadn’t been easy, and Castiel had lost even more weight. It was not often that Bobby felt helpless, but this was one of those times.

Castiel had finished blowing out the rest of his windows with his screaming during his night terrors, and Bobby's ears were still ringing from the voice that had shattered the glass. Although Bobby would never admit it, he had grown quite fond of the kid, and it hurt to see him so hopeless. Castiel had saved Dean, and for that alone, Bobby would always be in his debt. He just hoped that idiot would get here soon because he had no idea what else to do.

Dean escaped a few close calls on the road, but made it to Bobby’s in half the time, not even stopping for gas or food despite Sam's quiet suggestions. He barely even parked the car before jumping out of it, seeing even in the dark that the windows were all broken.

He barged through the door and looked around frantically, sighing when he found Bobby in one piece. Well, that was a start. "Well? What the hell is it?" He demanded. Bobby gestured to the bedroom, and Dean ran into it, finding Castiel curled up in a corner. The fallen angel was sitting on the floor, staring at the spot in front of him as if it had all the answers. When Dean came barging into the room, he did not even look up.

Sam came in after Dean. "Bobby said he stopped talking about two days ago and now he hasn't responded to anything. He said he had a nightmare or something... and blew out the windows and shook the house..." Sam explained quietly, unsure of what he could do to help

Dean knew he should have known not to leave Castiel who had only just fallen, who had only just been cast out of the only world he ever knew to be something he never was. He should never have abandoned him to wallow in his depression. Instead of saving him, Dean felt like he had failed him.

Dean rushed over to Castiel and dropped to his knees on the floor to face him. "Cas," he addressed him sternly in an attempt to wake him out of whatever trance captivated him. "Cas, look at me," he tried, his voice softer this time. Still, Cas stared and said nothing. "Castiel, you look at me when I talk to you," he finally demanded, and his hands came to grip his shoulders tightly and he gave him a good, quick shake.

Castiel blinked and seemed to come out of his trance-like state at Dean's demand. His eyes met Dean's for a moment before skittering his gaze away to look back down to the floor. He did not want Dean to see him like this, weak and useless. He tried to push Dean's hands away from him, hoping the man would just leave him to his memories.

Dean watched the life come back to Castiel, but only in his weak attempts to push him away. "Hey, stop that," he tried to soothe him as he held Castiel's wrists tight enough to restrain him but soft enough not to cause pain. He could tell just by looking at him that he had not eaten or slept in days, and he did not have to ask what the nightmares were about. It was as though he was still clinging hard to the angel inside of him, and as a result, he was failing to be human. Emotions that did not bother him before suddenly were overwhelming him. "What the hell did you do to yourself, huh?" He asked him, trying to keep anger out of his tone, but it was there in the undertone.

Castiel had never felt shame before until now, and he decided it was not pleasant feeling at all. "I do not make a very good human," he whispered, his voice harsh from disuse and he still could not meet Dean's eyes.

Well, that Dean could not deny. "No you don't," he forced a fake smile to briefly ghost his lips. "But it's my fault. All of it's my fault. So let me fix it," he tried, the guilt settling uncomfortably in the pit of his soul. "There's no such thing as a good human, Cas. But as someone who has met angels, demons, and humans, I can say you'd make an exceptionally good one if you'd just eat and sleep everyone once in a while. And how's this?" He slipped his hand under Castiel's shirt to feel his ribs and look for signs of pain.

Castiel did not understand how his actions could possibly be Dean's fault, but he did not get a chance to ask because the hunter’s hand was suddenly up his shirt and on his bare skin. He twitched slightly but relaxed an instant later into the touch. He decided the best part about being human was Dean's touches.

"Better. Bobby said I could not have any more pills... they were making me sick." He thought about what else Dean had said and added, "And I do not wish to sleep, I do not enjoy the human dream state."

Dean watched as something very different from pain showed on Castiel's face as his hand felt him. It made him want to pull his hand away quickly, but instead he explored further. He could feel the ribs under his skin and knew how much weight he had lost. He moved to the other half of his ribs to feel around and watch for any signs of pain that Cas would not be able to hide.

"If this doesn't hurt anymore, there's no need for pills. I hate to say but Vicodin isn't in one of our basic food groups. The pills were my fault too. I'm not gonna let you have 'em again either." He was glad they were actually in a conversation, no matter what the subject. "And I think the reason you don't like dreaming is because you never had a good dream. See, I hate nightmares just as much. But sometimes my dreams are very nice," Dean told him. His sex dreams were nice, that is. He either had sex dreams or nightmares.

Castiel liked the pills. If he took enough of them, they made him forget about things and they made him pleasantly numb. "I liked the pills," he protested. "And I don't think I'm allowed good dreams."

"Ummm, I'll go get Cas something to eat," Sam interrupted awkwardly, and Dean almost jumped, having forgotten he was in the room, and his hand quickly fell from under the fallen angel’s shirt. "Do you need help getting him on the bed? He should probably try and sleep," he suggested, recognizing the same signs of sleep deprivation that he had seen far too often in Dean. The only difference was that Dean worked harder to hide it.

Dean cleared his throat and looked over at Sam who stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Um... this might sound weird but... get a bunch of salads… a few bottles of water, and a chocolate cake. Oh, and some vitamins," he told his brother, who quickly turned to walk out of the room. Dean turned his attention quickly back to Cas.

"No more pills for you, Angel Face," he teased, forcing another smirk. "Just sleep. Are you gonna stand up or am I gonna have to throw you over my shoulder?"

"No throwing," Castiel shook his head. He attempted to stand, leaning heavily against the wall. "Why is the room spinning?" He asked curiously.

***

Sam left the room with a shake of his head and met Bobby in the kitchen. "Dean taking care of him?" Bobby asked as Sam started getting stuff together. Sam just nodded shortly.

Bobby scoffed at Sam. "I don't know what your problem is, Sam, but you need to get over it quick. That man in there sacrificed himself to pull Dean out of hell and he now needs our help." He paused to take a sip of bear. "You haven't heard him, Sam. Those nightmares... before they get really bad, he talks and from what I understand he could have dropped Dean mid-flight and saved himself, but he chose not to. His goddamn wings were on fire and all he could think about was not letting go of your brother. If that act doesn't deserve your trust then nothing will."

***

Dean watched as Castiel struggled to stand and his wide, blue innocent eyes danced across the room. Dean's own hands caught him before he could sink back to the floor. They gripped his slim waist tight, holding him up effortlessly. "Carrying it is. Come here," he sighed, and hoisted the shorter man up in his arms. Dean thought of angels on his shoulder and almost laughed.

It was only a few feet to the bed and he lowered him down on the mattress that squeaked in protest, bringing the covers up over him. "I guess having a pet angel is harder than I thought," he teased, if only to keep from tearing himself up.

"I'm not a pet or an angel," he muttered and scooted over, thinking that Dean was going to get into bed with him. "I am glad you are here," he admitted.

Dean should know by now that all attempts at humor would be lost on Castiel even after time. "I don't know why you keep saying that," he clenched his jaw after he whispered honestly. "You're tired. Close your eyes and remember what I taught you before." He changed the subject.

Castiel knew he had made Dean uncomfortable but he honestly did not understand why. When Dean told him to try and sleep he shook his head stubbornly. "I do not wish too," he told him, sounding like a tired child who refused to nap.

Out of frustration, Dean was at his wit's end. He did not know what to do and was so overwhelmed with guilt that he was done trying to be therapeutic. "Cas, I don't really care that you don't want to. After coming back and finding you half dead and withdrawn into that head of yours I'm not so sure I'm going to let you pick and choose anymore. Just because your human now doesn't mean you can suddenly defy everything everyone says," he grumbled angrily, his voice loud enough for Bobby to hear from the other room, he was sure of it. Dean sighed and calmed down, knowing that yelling at him would only cause him more stress. "Listen, I'm not leaving again tonight. I'll stay here to pull you out of a bad dream... I owe you one, anyway."

Castiel wondered if having a long existence of feeling nothing meant he felt all these human emotions much more harshly. He slumped further into the bed without another word and buried his face in the pillow. Perhaps he could just fake sleep and Dean would leave him be.

Dean watched him sink into the pillow and the silence fell between them. He knew what it felt like to feel the vulnerability of sleep, knowing that darkness lied in the subconscious that was stronger than his ability to wake.

Dean did not move, for a long time, as he gazed down at him. A hand came to gently comb through Castiel's neglected black hair, and he knew he was faking. For once, he did not question why he was touching him like this. Perhaps they were both desperate in that moment for the same thing.

Castiel could not help the sigh, and he knew he should stay awake, but he felt his body demanding sleep and Dean’s hand petting him, and was soon fast asleep. Dean continued to run his hand through Castiel's hair until he knew he had drifted off. He meant it when he would stay with him. He watched him for a while, studying him, until he told himself he needed to stop. When he stood, he felt his own restlessness. He stood in the doorway, leaning on it heavily, looking up to see Bobby look back knowingly.

Bobby raised an eyebrow and wheeled closer to Dean to watch the sleeping angel. He let out a relieved sigh. "I'm glad you got him asleep but I think the yelling was a little over the top. The day after you guys left, I got into an argument with a hunter buddy of mine over the phone, and Cas scurried back to his room like a kicked puppy. I guess they don't yell much in Heaven," he said. He knew there was something going on between Dean and the angel, but he doubted Dean would ever put down those walls and let Castiel in. "You need to have more patience with him... I know you’re not one for patience, but you need to try. He's like an orphan."

He eyed Bobby before looking back down to the floor. "Yeah, well, he doesn't make it easy. He has... a very strong attachment to me. I don't understand it," he muttered.

Bobby snorted at Dean's assessment of the situation. Dean was a smart kid but he could be so clueless sometimes. "He pulled you out of hell… that kind of sacrifice is bound to connect two people."

It was quiet for a moment before Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as if unsure if he should continue. "Cas talked to me a bit about the war in Hell. He said the angels were losing because just being in The Pit was killing them off. He said they were retreating, but he chose to stay and see through the mission... he was the only one that didn't give up. And look how those bastards repaid him."

Dean continued to stare at the floor, deep in thought. "Yeah, well, that just further proves he belongs here," he whispered, and at that moment the realization of what he said settled in heavily.

He was meant to be here, with him. He was made for it. Something superior gave Castiel to Dean. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks as if it were not his own thought but whispered into his head by someone else, or something else. He looked around the room as if trying to locate a disembodied voice.

"I didn't think about it that way," Bobby said, not realizing Dean was having an epiphany. "Maybe I'll do some research on it. All that I've read, Angels only fall for selfish reasons and the fact that Castiel essentially chose to disobey orders to save you is odd. Angels, at least lower level angels, aren't supposed to have free will. Castiel shouldn't have been able to do what he did," Bobby thought out loud, already in research mode.

Dean, deep in his epiphany, had no need for research. It was like all the puzzle pieces were coming together, like he found the cheat sheet with all the answers.

"He was given to me," he whispered to no one but himself. That was why Castiel was different, unique, in a world that did not allow that. He was meant to fall, he was meant to take him out of Hell, he was meant to be with him.

He was a present, wrapped up in broken wings and blue eyes.

Bobby looked up at Dean, surprised. "Well then, you better not break him. We are already dealing with the devil and his minions, we don't want to be pissing off the Big Man for breaking his 'get out of Hell' present," he snickered, turning to wheel away and muttering "Idgit," to Dean as he left.

That shook Dean out of his stupor and he watched Bobby wheel away. He knew then what he had to do and turned to walk back towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Castiel was still asleep and breathing softly. There were no nightmares to chase away.

Still, Dean did not take his eyes off of Castiel as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and lean over him, staring at him as if he held all the answers in the universe. Finally, something in his life made sense. Finally, this was a fate he did not want to fight. In Castiel, he saw God was alive and kicking. In Castiel, he saw hope for the first time, and the feeling overwhelmed him to the point where he could only keep staring.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

In his sleep, Castiel made a small sound of contentment when Dean sat down on the bed beside him. He shifted until his hand reached out and found Dean's, and his agitated movements calmed with the skin to skin contact and he settled down effortlessly into a deeper slumber. This time when he dreamed, it was a far more pleasant one.

Dean, still deep in his trance and his head still ringing from the voice, lowered his gaze down to Castiel's hand in his. For the first time, he did not pull away, but instead stared in awe at Castiel's peaceful expression until he felt his own body relax and he realized his own exhaustion.

He was glad he had thought to shut the door. Castiel had made room for Dean in the bed, thinking and perhaps hoping that he would join him. Still overwhelmed, he allowed himself to sink down on the mattress beside him, his hand still intertwined with Castiel's.

***

Sam waited until ten ‘o clock the next morning to check on his brother. Bobby had told him the night before to 'leave 'em be’, and Sam just took the couch. He opened the door eventually, however, to find Castiel’s head resting on Dean's chest and Dean's arm curved possessively around Castiel’s waist. The sight both surprised and confused him.

He sneaked back out of the room as quietly as he could and sat down at the kitchen table where Bobby was also seated, reading the paper. "I think my brother has the hots for his angel," he said, finally unable to take the silence anymore.

"I think the feeling’s mutual if it makes you feel any better," Bobby shrugged, not even looking away from his paper. Sam looked at him, astonished.

***

Dean woke slowly from what had been a peaceful sleep. The lack of nightmares had been such a relief that he did not want to wake at all, and had lingered in a half sleeping state. When he felt his position on the bed and Castiel's gentle light weight on top of him, however, his eyes popped open. He noticed right away that his own arms were around the fallen angel, and he gently shifted out from underneath him. He instantly felt as though there was a hole burning in his chest, like his heart was being twisted in his body.

He was suddenly cold, and he could not force himself out of that bed yet. With Castiel asleep like this, unconscious and dreaming, he belonged to him. Dean shifted to lean over Castiel. He was still deep in sleep, and Dean did not have the heart to disturb him just yet. He looked his companion up and down before slowly and carefully sliding the bed sheets off to expose and unwrap him.

Castiel’s shirt had ridden up and Dean once again was too captivated to look away. His hand came to hover above his naked skin, inches away so he could feel the heat of his body but still not touching. He cocked his head in curiosity when he saw something that looked oddly like black ink, and his hands finally gathered up courage to gently turn Castiel over onto his side. He lifted up the shirt further to reveal a black tattoo on his back. Captivated, Dean's fingers traced it.

Castiel's whole body shivered when Dean touched the tattoo and he mumbled sleepily. Dean watched as Castiel's body moved and he decided that the damn shirt just got in the way. Dean's hands, as if they had a mind of their own, slid from the tattoo to his abdomen that was slim and hairless and sculpted to perfection by God himself. His hand ghosted over his navel, where he circled and toyed with it.

Castiel's breath started to pick up the more Dean's hands explored him, and soon he was panting softly. He moaned when Dean's fingers toyed with his navel and his hips automatically rolled forward. Dean's own breath hitched when he saw Castiel actually respond to the touches, and the realization of what he was doing hit him full force and he pulled his hand away with every intention of pulling his body away with it, but he only froze.

Castiel rolled over completely onto his back and stretched like a cat in the sun before slowly opening his eyes and spotting Dean. "Good morning, Dean."

Dean watched as the fallen angel stirred and he wondered if Castiel even noticed at all that his shirt was bunched up at his armpits. He coughed softly as he tried to speak. "I think... you should probably know something," he tried, although he had no idea how to word what he wanted to say. "You shouldn't feel bad anymore about falling and about being human… 'cuz I have a feeling you're exactly where you're supposed to be."

Castiel frowned. "I fell. Falling is the worst punishment an angel can receive," he stated, sitting up in the bed and looking down in confusion when he noticed his shirt. He rolled it back down quickly.

Dean shook his head in denial, remembering the voice in his head and the way the puzzle pieces put themselves together. "No, it's not a punishment for you. It's.... what you were meant for," he tried again, and knowing he could not fully explain it without admitting something else, he was suddenly embarrassed and he turned away to stand beside the bed. "You need to eat. Stay here."

"Alright," Castiel agreed, feeling like Dean just needed to get away more than anything.

Dean made his way to the kitchen to grab two helpings of pancakes that Bobby had freshly made. He turned to look at Sam, who was staring at him in that weird way of his, as if he were trying to read his mind.

"What?" Dean asked before not waiting for an answer and walking back towards the bedroom with the tray of food. Dean shut the bedroom door behind him and smirked as he offered Castiel his share and watching for a reaction.

Castiel looked up when Dean came in and his eyes focused right away to the food he was holding. He had not felt hungry before, but now that Dean was back and bringing good smelling edibles, his stomach rumbled in anticipation. "Is that for me?" He asked hopefully, licking his lips as he stared at it.

Dean laughed to himself at Castiel's sudden attention. "No, idiot, it's for me. I’m gonna eat two plates of pancakes right in front of you," he teased, and knowing Castiel did not know the meaning of sarcasm, he rolled his eyes at the lost expression he received and handed it to him.

Castiel dug in immediately. "You do that thing with your eyes a lot... rolling them up," he commented randomly in between bites. "I have seen Bobby do that, too."

"Oh, I'm sure you saw a lot of it from Bobby while I was gone," he laughed, and supposed it was just one of those innate, human things that Castiel would just have to get used to. "You got a lot to learn, Kid. I think I'll take you out tonight. I bet there aren't bars in Heaven," he grinned mischievously. The idea had come to him suddenly.

***

It was a usual Friday night for a small, cow town bar, and Castiel's hand immediately shot out to hold onto Dean's arm as he looked around. He had never been around this many people before. Dean stopped instantly when he felt Castiel grab him, and he pulled away, despite the uneasiness that followed the broken contact. "Cas, it's okay," he turned to reassure him, but the fallen angel was clear from calm. His eyes wide and afraid, Dean could not hold back his amused grin.

Sam saw Castiel’s reaction and whispered to Dean, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Oh, come on. It will be hilarious," Dean said to his brother. "If he's human now, he's gotta learn sometime."

Dean made it through the door of the bar and into the crowd, secretly terrified to lose Castiel somewhere in this place, but the more stubborn part of him wanted to stop obsessing. Is that not why he brought them all here in the first place? So he could get Castiel out of his head?

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "Just stick close to Dean," he told Castiel. "I'll be right behind you, just remember every one in here is drunk, and that makes them even stupider." Castiel nodded but he was not really sure what to do with that advice.

Frustrated, Dean stopped walking and turned to Sam. "Come on, Sammy. We used to do this all the time. It used to be fun. We used to be fun. I'm beginning to think Cas isn't the only one with a stick up his ass these days," he glared before turning back around, taking Castiel with him by his sleeve. "Come on, Cas, you haven't had a real drink yet." He walked to the bar as Castiel stumbled behind him.

Sam sighed and followed them. He did not know what Dean's problem was tonight, or why he felt the need to throw Castiel into something like this, but it seemed like every time he tried to make sense of things, he got his head bitten off.

Castiel did not want to sit at the bar and have his back to all these people, so he just stood next to Dean and looked around curiously. "I do not want one...” He told Dean. “Thank you," he added, remembering Bobby's lessons in human manners.

Dean was not going to let anyone ruin his night. Dean would never admit it, but sometimes when he saw the chance to be a normal person doing normal things, he clung to it and refused to let anything stand in his way. Tonight was one of those nights. No demons, no apocalypse, no voice in his head telling him the angel in his bed belonged to him.

So when he heard Castiel protest something as simple as sitting down, Dean was not going to let that get in the way, either. "Castiel, sit your pretty boy ass down on the stool," he demanded, avoiding direct eye contact. He knew he would regret the harsh words immediately if he looked him in his pathetic eyes.

His raised voice caught the attention of a young, blonde bartender who gave him a knowing smirk before pouring him a beer. "You look like you can use one," she handed him the tall drink. Dean reflected the same smirk back, liking where this was going.

"Oh, I could use it."

Sam just shook his head as Castiel slumped down on the stool and stared at the bar top until the bartender came over. She was blonde and pretty but Castiel did not notice those things. Instead, he picked up only on her sexual interest in Dean. He did not understand the process of flirting, but he could feel the waves of lust rolling off of her and it caused something in his stomach to tighten painfully. He glared, wishing he still was an angel so he could just smite her.

The girl flashed her gleaming white teeth at Dean as the hunter sipped his beer leisurely. "How come I haven't seen you around here?" She asked casually, wiping the counters with a white towel. Dean looked her up and down with a smile.

"I just moved here from the city. I don't know the first thing about living in a small fishbowl town like this. I guess I'm a little lost," he shrugged, taking another long draught of his beer.

The girl smiled flirtatiously. "I guess you just haven't found the right person to show you around, then."

"Dean, you do not live here but you have been here before," Castiel interrupted, not knowing why Dean would be lying. He shot a look at the female bartender and said, "He does not require your assistance... in any capacity."

Dean's smile quickly vanished, as did that of the girl, who instead gave Dean a smug look before holding out her hand expectedly. "That's three bucks," she said smartly, even though she had been clear before that the drink was on the house. Dean sighed and handed her the money before she walked off.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded when he turned to face Castiel. Part of him had thought that throwing Castiel into this kind of situation would loosen him up. He thought it would strengthen his human skills, and he thought it would break the attachment he had to him. "Cas, a little white lie never hurt anyone!"

"She just wanted to copulate," he told Dean plainly as he glared at the worn wooden bar top. Sam about sputtered out the beer as he choked on his laughter.

Dean threw his hands in the air and downed the rest of his beer. "Yeah, that was kinda the point. I didn't bring you hear to cock block me all night, Cas. Don't throw that holy self righteous God shit at me," he growled, and slapped more money on the counter. A male bartender slipped him another beer before walking away.

"Then why did you bring me here?" Castiel asked. "You want me to learn about humanity and you bring me to this… this… place where people just want to have sex and getting inebriated? If that's humanity you can, you can.... shove it up your ass!" He shouted, remembering a phrase Bobby had used, and stood up so fast he knocked the barstool over.

Under any other circumstance, Dean would have died laughing at Castiel's awkward stumble over an attempt to curse. He was not feeling very humorous now, however, and he slammed the bar door open as he stormed after him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going now?!" He demanded.

"I'm going away from this… this Den of Inequity!" Castiel yelled back. He would walk back to Bobby's if he had too. "And… and..." He stuttered. "I do not like you very much right now!"

Gripped with anger, Dean grabbed Castiel by his shoulders to shove him roughly against the outside wall of the bar. He held him there, with the force of his hands on his shoulders and his own body. Their faces were inches away from one another and he sneered. Some part of him deep inside was screaming, and not just in frustration and anger but with something else.

"What did you say?!" He growled threateningly.

Castiel tried not to be intimated, but Dean was bigger than him in this human body, and he could make himself a monster when he was angry enough. "I said, I said..." Castiel stuttered, swallowing hard to gather his courage."I said I do not like you very much right now."

Dean watched the fear flash in Castiel’s eyes and his anger softened immediately. The pang in his heart when he heard Castiel say that was overwhelming. The truth was, lately this stupid fallen angel who has caused him nothing but trouble since he landed in his lap was the only thing that made him feel at all.

"Don't say that to me," Dean whispered, his grip loosening around him, but still keeping him close. Finally, he could not hold himself back any longer. He closed the breath's distance between them when his lips collided with Castiel's in a kiss, pressing him harder against the wall before it was over too soon and they detached to pant for air. Castiel had never felt anything like Dean's lips on his, and had never imagined the emotions running together in his mind and the feelings coursing up his spine.

"Oh..." Castiel whispered in shocked

Dean watched Castiel’s startled reaction through his half lidded, hazy eyes, and knew it had not been enough. He licked his bottom lip, tasting Castiel there, and knew he could not turn back now. It was a burning frustration curing.

"I wasn't done." Dean’s voice was rough with need as his hands found the fallen angel's slim hips and gripped them tightly before he collided his lips against his a second time. This time, his tongue slid into his mouth to claim him, and Castiel opened his mouth and made a surprise, muffled sound when Dean's tongue found his.

As much as Dean wanted to intensify the kiss, he knew this was all very new to Castiel. That really only excited him further, knowing that he alone owned those lips. Trying to still his shaky body, he slowed the kiss, his tongue seeking his out encouragingly. He bit his lower lip gently before breaking the contact to catch his breath.

"I should take you out of here," he decided out loud.

Castiel closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Dean's. "But I thought you wanted to stay," he whispered, confused. Dean inhaled the human scent of Castiel, his hands holding his hips against the wall as if they would both collapse without the support. He smiled at the fallen angel’s innocence and bedazzlement from the kiss.

"Not really. I found what I was looking for," he realized for the first time. He had gone out searching for a world outside of Castiel, but found nothing there. Inside, Dean was dead, angry, and soul-less. With Castiel, he felt the fires of life rekindling, and he was clinging to it, because his life depended on it. Dean knew he could not find that anywhere else. He could not find that in a bar or at the bottom of any liquor bottle or in the kiss of any pretty, blonde bartender.

"You are very confusing," Castiel interrupted Dean’s thoughts to say as his fingertips reached up to trace Dean's jaw line. "You are angry one moment… and like this the next. I think I like this better."

Dean sighed as Castiel's fingers ghosted across his face, and he could not turn away from those deep pools of blue that were dancing around like whirlpools of confusion. "Well I can't help it if you drive me freaking crazy, Cas," he answered frankly. "You'll start to understand things. I plan to keep you. You'll learn.”

"I put more stress on you," Castiel shook his head in denial. "I will endeavor to learn more human things. Bobby has already taught me a lot," Castiel vowed. Bobby taught him human courtesies like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and firm handshakes, and of course, cussing. Between Bobby and Dean, Castiel would learn a lot of that.

Dean shook his head and in an effort to silence him. "No… no, I'm the one that puts more stress on myself. You... you..." He stammered, but he could go no further. He what? Healed him? Made him feel a little more complete and whole again even when half of himself was left to rot forever in Hell? Castiel was own little bottle of medication, a prescription angel. "I'm going to kiss you again," Dean whispered instead, as if that would explain anything and everything without words that just got in the way.

TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

The sound of his own moan when Dean's lips touched his again surprised Castiel. It was all over far too soon, however, when the door to the bar squeaked open and suddenly Sam walked out.

"Hey, you guys- ...Woah!"

Dean instantly threw himself away from Castiel at the sobering sound of his brother's voice, and his hand came up to wipe his lips with the back of his hand as he paced around like a caged animal.

"What?!" Dean demanded angrily. He did not look over at Castiel.

"I was just checking on you guys. You've been gone a long time," Sam reasoned as he looked from his brother to Castiel, who was frowning at Dean. "Umm, I didn't mean to interrupt," he assured, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "So I guess you guys aren't fighting anymore?" He tried to joke to ease the tension and show Dean that he was okay with what he had walked in on. As long as Castiel made Dean happy, Sam would try and get over any jealousy issues and the weirdness of his brother romantically involved with a fallen angel.

Dean simply glared at Sam. He did not know why he expected his brother to be angry, but he had. He did not know what would be worse: Sam acting indifferent or Sam crinkling his face in disgust. He did not seem to be shocked at all, maybe just surprised. "You don't need to check up on us," Dean growled angrily through clenched teeth.

Sam raised an eyebrow. Dean's temper was legendary, and if his brother did not have a job that allowed him to kill things, Sam was pretty sure Dean would have ended up with life in prison. "You were gone almost ten minutes," Sam explained softly.

Dean clenched his fists. "What, I'm not allowed to go off on my own? I'm not allowed to do my own thing without you 'checking up on me'?" He demanded. Maybe the shrink at the hospital was right about one thing. Their relationship was too (co) dependent, and when before Dean did not mind it, knowing that Sam was the only thing he had left, here was a chance at something else... something he never had before. "I'm not allowed ten minutes of my own life?!"

In their line of work, a lot could happen in just ten minutes, but Sam did not want to make this an argument. Instead he sighed and bit back his tongue, knowing not to take any of this personally. Dean was drunk and most likely confused and conflicted, and Sam had walked in at the worst possible time. He told himself Dean did not mean it.

***

The car ride back to Bobby's was quiet. Castiel sat in the backseat even after Sam tried to convince him to take the front passenger seat. As soon as they were in the driveway, Sam bolted out of the car and into the house, knowing that his brother and his angel needed all the privacy they could get.

Dean turned the car off and peered back at Castiel through the rear view mirror. "I bet you don't like me right now, either," he said quietly.

Castiel had decided he did not like having feelings, because as soon as you had a good one, it could just as easily turn sour. "I suppose I just did not realize what we were doing was bad," he replied, remembering how quickly Dean had thrown himself away from him as if Castiel's touch had disgusted him. He suddenly did not want to talk about this anymore, and he exited the car and headed for the house.

Dean thought about punching his steering wheel to let out pent up frustration, but he did not want his beloved impala to be mad at him, too. Once inside, he dodged a knowing, judgmental look from Bobby and made his way to the bedroom where he knew Castiel would be. He hesitatingly opened the door and slipped inside.

"I've never... been with anyone," Dean whispered to him as he leaned against the door. He realized how wrong that sounded and stuttered to correct himself. "Not in the way that you haven't. I've been with lots of girls. But... not for more than one night at a time. I'm just..." He swallowed, not knowing how to explain it.

Castiel had already changed into an old pair of sweat pants that had been Dean's at one point during his teenage years, and was just about to put one of Dean’s ACDC band T-shirts on when the hunter came into the bedroom. "So you are saying you do not know how to be in a relationship?" He asked, forgetting about the shirt in his hands and stepping closer to Dean.

Dean stared at Castiel’s naked torso and momentarily forgot his train of thought. "I'll have to buy you some clothes," he muttered, as if to himself, even though he had decided that he much preferred Castiel in his baggy sweats from high school and nothing else. When at last he finally remembered what he had meant to say, he frowned and looked away. "I'm not worth it, Cas. I don't know why you choose to stay with me, or why you got that stuff carved on your ribs... but I'm not worth it."

"Do not say that," Castiel argued, reaching out to cup Dean's face with his hand. "I would not have done what I did if I did not think you were ‘worth it’. I just wish you could see it for yourself."

Dean wanted to argue that Castiel just did not know him well enough yet to know any better, but he knew that was a lie. Castiel was the only one who saw him for who he really is. He had seen the best of him and the worst of him, and he could not deny it. He saw into his very soul when even Dean could not find it within himself. When Castiel cupped his face he did not pull away. He was too desperate to be closer to him.

"No, you're wrong. You being like this- it's my fault," Dean tried to explain. Castiel did not know it yet, but he will. He will grow to resent him and he would grow to hate him as each day passed by leading him farther and farther from Heaven.

"No, this was my choice and I would choose it again and again and... I think you may have been right. I believe I may be meant for this. Being with you is not a punishment. I feel like I am exactly where I should be," Castiel told confidently.

Dean did not know why it was so hard just to tell Castiel about the voice in his head the other night or what it said or what it meant. Part of him had a feeling he did not have to. It quite simply did not matter, because every inch of the angel was perfected specifically with him in mind, and nothing about this was wrong. Why else would he fall and be the way he is now? He was not like Anna, who manifested herself inside a vessel. Castiel was just thrown down in this body given specifically to him. Dean just wished he could have been there to catch him.

"Then I guess we'll just learn together, hmm?" Dean proposed.

Castiel smiled up at him. "I suppose we will," he agreed, pulling his hand away. "Are you ready to sleep?" He asked, already curling up into the bed. He reached for his neglected T-shirt.

Dean’s eyes once again dropped to his chest. His sweats hung low past his waist, and with one tug they would fall. He looked down past his belly button at the toned ‘V’ that suggested even further south and he moved quickly to take the T-shirt out of Castiel's hands. "Don't put that on," he smirked, tossing it far away from both of them. "I like you better without it," he explained.

"Oh…" Castiel said, "… But I thought it was appropriate to wear clothing, even to sleep."

Dean laughed softly at Castiel's innocence and shook his head. "In bed with me, clothes are optional," he smiled suggestively. "In fact, I'll do the same." He pulled his own shirt over his head slowly, obviously trying to spark something inside Castiel he knew was there. He was muscular while Castiel was slim and toned.

Castiel looked over Dean's body, sitting up on his knees on the bed so he could be more eye level with the hunter. He reached out to place his hand over the imperfection on his arm he did not mean to leave. "I am sorry that I did not get to heal this," he said sadly, feeling as if he had failed by not bringing Dean back unharmed.

Dean shook his head and with a firm hand flat on his chest, he pressed Castiel until his back lay flat on the bed. "I don't know why you're sorry. I wouldn't let you heal it," he insisted, wishing Castiel would stop feeling guilty over it already. Dean pinned the fallen angel’s hands at the wrist to the bed on either side of him and his mouth quickly found his neck to kiss his soft flesh there.

Castiel had thought Dean was simply pushing him down on the bed so they could go to sleep, and Castiel made a surprised sound in his throat when Dean kissed him on the neck. "Dean, what are you doing?" He asked, because he had not really thought much beyond getting kissed on the mouth until now. He did not even realize that his body had automatically arched up into Dean's until he felt the shock of their bare chests rubbing together. It was a different feeling and it seemed to make his body heat up.

Dean felt Castiel's body tense underneath him and he knew this was too far too fast. Dean was used to this: The quick dive into sex. His body always jumped way ahead of his mind. And Castiel half naked underneath him was no way to keep sane, especially because this was the first time he had ever felt anything in addition to lust for another person. Despite Castiel's obvious and sudden nervousness, Dean did not move away until he was sure he left a mark of his own, a bruise colored darkly on his neck. He pulled back to look down at his handiwork. That was a start.

"I'm kissing you, Cas," he stated simply. A realization hit him that maybe Castiel did not understand enough about human relationships to know what kind Dean wanted for him. Maybe Castiel did not want the same things from him. With that fear, he slid off from his position half way on top of him to lie next to him instead.

Castiel knew the mechanics of sex as someone who had read about it in a book but never experienced it themselves. Yet this kind of affection he did not really understand. He just knew that his new body appreciated it. He tentatively touched the spot Dean had left on his neck, and his fingers left his own skin to trace Dean's lips. "I left a mark on you, so you felt the need to leave a mark on me?" He asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

The smile and touch reassured Dean, but not enough to convince him Castiel wanted this. For all he knew, he was taking complete advantage of him, despite everything the voice told him. So Dean suppressed his arousal and remained where he was: At a distance. "It will go away in a few days," he whispered, referring to the mark on his neck.

Castiel's brow furrowed. "But I do not wish for it to go away," he said, confused as to why Dean was not touching him anymore. He just decided to keep touching Dean instead, letting his fingers rub down his shoulders and chest, laying his hand flat over the inked pentagram over his heart.

Dean let out a sigh of relief when Castiel's hand explored him, and that was all the encouragement he needed. The look in his eyes like he missed the contact as much as he did was enough to convince Dean that he was not molesting his fallen angel. Well... maybe he still was. But the boy was asking for it.

"Well, then, I'll just have to make more," he smirked, his thumb coming to outline the deepening mark. "And maybe not just on your neck." His finger softly traced down his neck to his chest until it stopped at the edge of his pant line.

Castiel's blood flow seemed to follow Dean's finger and he was panting by the time it reached the edge of the flimsy, second-hand pants. "Dean, I feel funny. I feel too hot," he said worriedly.

Dean saw the worry on Castiel's face and instantly took his hand away in fear of overwhelming him too much, too fast. He was still not used to being human with a body that had needs and demands and temptations. "Shh, don't worry, it's nothing bad. It's good," he reassured him, and shifted so he laid half on top of him in a less probing way. "It means I did something right."

Castiel calmed visibly. His breathing evened out and his body relaxed. "Oh, so that is supposed to happen? Does it happen to you too?"

Dean nuzzled Castiel's cheek. "Fuck, yes," he grinned. He was half tempted to show him exactly what it did to him, but he held himself back. "It's okay to let it happen," he whispered reassuringly, and moved to slide completely on top of him so their bare chests aligned once again. In one bold movement, Dean pressed his erection against Castiel's hips, knowing he would feel it. "That's what you do to me." His voice was rough.

Castiel's eyes widened, and his body went completely still underneath Dean's. "I...I ...I can't..." He stuttered, because he really did not know what else to say.

Dean realized his mistake instantly and forced some of the blood that was located elsewhere to his brain and pulled away gently. He still was not able to break the skin-on-skin contact completely, even if it meant more torment. "Okay... okay... we don't have to," he breathed, but his body was still screaming for it. He watched as the arousal shook through Castiel's body and it did nothing to calm him. "I'm sorry."

Castiel just nodded somewhat jerkily and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on getting his breathing back under control.

Dean realized that just being still and obedient was not enough and he pulled away and broke all contact to prevent Castiel from having a panic attack. He rolled onto his back, the mattress squeaking in protest. This was going to be a slow process, he knew it, and patience was never one of Dean's virtues. Yet, he knew Castiel was perhaps the one single thing he would wait for.

Castiel concentrated so hard on his breathing that when finally he relaxed, he drifted off into a deep sleep. He rolled over until his face was buried in Dean's neck and he wrapped his arm around his companion’s waist.

Dean was still wide awake as he waited for Castiel to shift into a comfortable position curled up against him, knowing that he himself would not find peace that night. Dean hesitantly wrapped his arm around his middle as his fallen angel settled down. Castiel was still exhausted from his week of insomnia, and Dean had to go and scare the hell out of him. No wonder he just passed out, Dean thought to himself.

Finally, he forced himself to close his own eyes, and a half hour later he was snoring softly into Castiel's hair.

TBC…


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel awoke before Dean for once and spent several minutes simply watching his companion’s peaceful expression. Eventually, however, the noise coming from downstairs convinced him to get up. He tried not to think too much about what happened last night between him and Dean because every time he did, he felt his face heat up. He slipped a T-shirt on before joining Sam and Bobby on the front porch. They were discussing a possible case.

"Hey Cas, sleep well?" Sam asked with the knowing look he usually gave Dean, after his brother clearly spent the night with someone else. Castiel simply nodded, not understanding. Bobby handed Castiel and apple and instructed him to eat, and the fallen angel cautiously bit down and began chewing slowly with mixed feelings.

Sam stood up and stretched his muscles. "Come on Cas, let’s see how your fighting skills are."

***

As it turned out, Castiel was a very impressive fighter once he got used to the way his body could move. Sam explained some things to him, but mostly it was: “Don't let me hit you.” Castiel had only allowed that to happen once, and had a bloody lip to show for it. Not liking the overwhelming, human feeling of pain, he did not allow it to happen again.

Castiel kicked Sam's feet out from under him for the fifteenth time, and Sam landed hard in the grass once again. Bobby was laughing so hard he was about to fall out of his wheelchair and was muttering things like 'David and Goliath' in between chuckles. Sam, however, was not so amused. When Castiel hit him, he felt like a hit from a train. And the amazing thing was that the fallen angel was barely trying. In fact, he was not even out of breath.

Dean stirred awake when he heard the sound of Bobby's laughter, as it was something he rarely heard these days. He instinctively reached out to seek Castiel beside him, but found the bed empty. He shot up out of bed and bolted for the door, following the sound of Bobby's voice. He halted shortly in the doorway to the porch when he saw his angel with a bloody lip and his brother on the ground.

"What the hell are you doing!?" He screamed at Sam. He advanced towards him with every intention in the world of beating some revenge into him. He was a split second away from giving Sam his own bloody lip and completely disregarding the fact that his brother was the one on the ground in a bloody and bruised mess.

"Dean," Castiel said quietly, his hand coming out to grip the angry hunter’s arm. "Sam was just showing me how to defend myself," he insisted. "I am good at this human form of fighting," he added proudly.

Dean was not ready to listen and immediately grabbed Castiel by the arm. "You're good at it? You have a bloody lip!" He shouted, and dragged Castiel to the nearest bathroom. He grabbed a towel and wet it, ready to patch up the tiny injury.

I'll kill him, he thought to himself in his head, not thinking that Castiel could hear it in his own.

"He only was able to hit me once… and you’re not going to kill your brother for teaching me what I needed to know," he said, wincing a little as Dean gently cleaned his lip up.

To Dean, Castiel was to be protected. He had to be the one thing Dean did not lose because of his lifestyle. "No, maybe not, but you’re no hunter," he told him.

"You're angry," Castiel said, stating the obvious. "But you should not be angry at Sam for trying to help me. I want to go on hunts with you and I want to help out," he said. They had not talked about this yet, and he had a feeling Dean was avoiding the subject. But he would not allow himself to be left behind again.

"No," Dean interrupted him, not wanting to hear any more of it. The sooner he got that stupid idea out of his head, the better. It was not meant to happen. It would be cruel for God to give him Castiel only to take him away. "I can't let you do that. It's dangerous and you have not adjusted to being human yet," he tried to remain calm, remembering that it was the only way Castiel would listen and respond.

"I can't stay here worrying about you the whole time." he said trying to reasonable, but of course Dean was anything but reasonable.

"I am adjusting better to being human with you around," Castiel insisted, trying for a new angle. "Please, Dean."

Dean looked anywhere but into Castiel's pleading eyes. Instead, he fussed over the tiny split in his fallen angel’s lip, rooting through Bobby's neglected first aid kit for some Neosporin to dab on it to quicken the healing process. He wanted to keep his lips kissable, not bloody.

"We're not talking about this," he said again, although he wondered what was worse: Leaving Castiel with Bobby, knowing he would stop eating and sleeping, or take him along knowing he might not be able to protect him.

Dean was so stubborn that he tried Castiel's infinite patience. "I am going," Castiel insisted sternly. "Even if you leave me here, I will just simply follow you," he threatened, because he knew he could find Dean even if the other man was across the world.

Dean remembered Anna telling him the real nature of angels. They were warriors of God, and he knew now where Castiel's strength came from. He was not a weak child that needed to be babysat. But Dean was still not willing to take any chances.

"Then I'll just have to give Bobby instructions to lock you up," he shot back at him. "If you think I'm stubborn, Bobby's even worse. And besides, how do you plan on stalking me down if I leave? You're human now," he challenged him.

Castiel reached out and put his hand over the scar on Dean's shoulder. "I'm not completely human. I can feel you inside of me. We are connected. I could find you in the dark, even if you were continents away. Please, do not leave me behind."

Dean's hands came to grip Castiel's hips as if to hold him there. "My answer will always be no. You don't have to fight with me to be with me," he said, trying to convince himself. He did not wish his life on anyone, not even his worst enemy. The last thing he wanted to do was curse Castiel with the same burdens he faced every day.

Castiel sighed and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, leaning his forehead against his as he shut his eyes. Dean was stubborn and fighting with him was pointless, so he would just have to be clever and find a way around it.

"You are a hunter, and that is a part of you, and I would not have it any other way. To be with you is to fight alongside of you. I have fought in wars against fallen angels, demons, and demigods. I can hold my own and you would see that if you let me prove it to you. I am not something that needs to be protected. If anything, I should be protecting you."

It scared Dean that Castiel possessed that much of him. "You won't hear me say yes," he said again, because that much he could believe. Castiel had made it clear that Dean could not stop him, and Dean was not willing to imprison him. "You have to understand why," he whispered while nuzzling his neck affectionately where his own mark was dark and obvious.

"Because you are stubborn and over protective?" Castiel asked, but hummed in contentment when Dean nuzzled his neck. It was then that he remembered something else. "Do you think Sam was okay? You pulled me away before I could make sure," he asked, worried that he had actually hurt him. During there fighting practice, he found he had to hold back a lot of his strength. Granted, he was not as strong in this body as he was as an angel, but he was definitely stronger than any human despite his smaller stature.

Dean continued to nuzzle his neck, his hands positioned firmly on his hips. They itched to slide under his shirt, but he did not want to scare him again. "Because I don't want to add you to the long list of everything I've lost in my life. That's why." He ended the sentence with a chaste kiss that was still very erotic against his neck. Castiel shivered. "And Sam is fine," Dean dismissed it without a second thought. "You only gave him what he deserved. My angel is not a punching bag."

"Your angel, huh?" Castiel mused with a smile. He liked the sound of that a little more than he thought he should.

Suddenly, there was a banging at the bathroom door. "Come on, guys. I gotta go." Sam spoke impatiently.

Dean growled at the interruption. He glared at the door, knowing his brother was leaning heavy on the other side. "What, did Cas scare the piss out of you when he knocked you off your feet?!" He shouted, because it would take a little kissing ass before Dean would consider letting Sam live.

"Come on man, I got one punch in before he kicked my ass. Don't be mad over a little bloody lip. You weren't going to teach him, so someone had too," Sam's voice filtered through the door. "Besides… Bobby told me too. He said you couldn't, because you'd baby him."

Dean finally disentangled himself from Castiel and swung the door to the bathroom wide open. "Why is everyone suddenly on my case!?" He shouted defensively, loud enough for Bobby to hear, too. Castiel did not need anyone to plant ideas about going on hunts in that little nerdy brain of his.

"Geez, man, calm down," Sam said, pushing past them to get into the bathroom. Castiel had already left, spotting a book on the hall table that he had not read yet. His attention span when it came to books was very limited, it seemed. Sam pushed Dean out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind him before anything else could be said.

Bobby wheeled by and plucked the book out of Castiel's hand before he could start reading it. "Not that one, Featherhead," he told Castiel before turning to Dean. "Why don't you go work on the Impala and calm down a bit."

Dean pursed his lips and glared down at Bobby like a defiant teenager. "Why don't you stop trying to turn Cas into a hunter?" He accused. But the fact that Bobby had taken a book from Castiel had sparked his curiosity. He gave a head-nod towards it. "What is that book?"

"If he hangs out with us long enough he's going to need to know how to defend himself, whether you let him hunt or not, moron," Bobby said, ignoring Dean's other question to wheel into the library.

Castiel spoke up. "It was a book on John Dee and Enochian… the language of angels."

Dean stared over Castiel's shoulder. He did not often get trapped in thought, but when he did, he seemed to be stuck there. Castiel, however, was plotting on how to acquire that book, and it took him a few moments to realize Dean was lost in his head. "Dean," he said, coming to stand close. "What is the matter?"

It took Dean a moment to realize that Castiel had said something, and another to process what he said. He shook his head in denial. "Nothing's the matter," he whispered, but he still stared down at the ground, deep in thought and unable to bring himself back.

"You should not lie to someone who has seen your soul," Castiel chastised lightly. He leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Dean's lips to make him concentrate. He knew Dean was worried about something, and in Castiel's opinion, Dean worried too much. "Come outside with me," he said suddenly, taking Dean's hand. "I like looking at my father's creation through these human eyes and I want you to show it to me."

His lips on his had been enough to stir Dean out of his trance. His expression showed surprised when Castiel decided he wanted to go for a walk. Dean did not often partake in leisurely pleasures often, but all he could do was follow as he was led by the hand.

Once outside, Dean chuckled at Castiel's innocence. "Then you obviously haven't seen enough of it to know it's sometimes a Hell on Earth," he snickered cynically, but kept his hand firm in his as they ventured outside into the sun.

The feel of the sun on Castiel’s face made him smile and feel a bit mischievous. He gave Dean another quick kiss before saying, "Catch me and you can have another one." He let go of Dean’s hand before he took off running towards the field behind Bobby's house.

Dean blinked as Castiel stunned him with a kiss before springing off out of his grasp and dashing off faster than any human could. "Cas! What the hell are you doing?" He panicked, because the whole point was not to lose him. In his head, he cursed God's intentions to drive Dean crazy with Castiel. Afraid to let him get too far, he ran off after him at top speed. When at last he caught up, he was sure it was because Castiel let him. He grabbed him by the waist and pulled him towards him, causing them both to fall to the grass pillowed ground. He was panting so heavily he could not get words out properly. "Don't… do that!"

"We are safe here," Castiel told him. He flipped them so that he was on top and pinned Dean's hands to the ground. He smiled down at him. It instantly chased away any pessimistic thoughts from Dean and replaced them with very pleasurable ones. He grinned devilishly up at his angel.

"Well, when you say it like that..." He teased, and because his hands were trapped, he slowly spread his legs under Castiel's hips. "So this is angel play time? Is this what you did all day in Heaven?" He chuckled, because he had not seen Castiel so full of energy before. He wondered if this was another trait passed down to him from a different form.

"Sometimes, but mostly I worked on staying out of others way. I like it better here, with you," Castiel admitted.

Dean, encouraged, took it a step forward. He wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, joining their hips crudely against one another's. He smirked up at Castiel to show how much he liked it and to perhaps spark a blush out of him. Yet once again, his words caught him off guard.

"You like it better with me than in Heaven? Cas, that's ridiculous. Don't say that," he refused to listen to it. Castiel did not know yet how cursed Dean really was. If he did, he would not say stupid things like that.

"I'll say what I want because it's true," Castiel whispered into Dean's ear before kissing the spot under his earlobe.

Dean smirked and his hands fought free to cup Castiel's face with the intention of pulling him into a kiss of a different kind. "Come here." His voice was deep and raspy before his mouth collided with his. Dean's hands came to grab his angel's waist and pull him more firmly against him.

Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth. He liked kissing. It amazed him how natural it was for them, and when Dean pulled him even closer, it did not scare him. Clothing as a solid barrier between them seemed to make him more comfortable.

Dean smiled against his lips, glad that Castiel had adjusted so easily to this practice, and had become quite good at it. His hands slipped slowly beneath Castiel's shirt sneakily, wanting to feel the taunt skin there. His hips gently bucked underneath Castiel's, and the fallen angel could feel his obvious arousal that he had not seemed to get rid of since Castiel cuddled up to him that first night.

"You're really testing my patience, boy," Dean warned against the kiss.

"Dean, you have no patience and I am over 2,000 years old. I am not a 'boy'," Castiel told him, trying not to think about Dean's hard length against him and how he was starting to feel hot again.

Dean smirked and his hands snaked up Castiel's shirt to feel the heat of his skin against his hands. His thumbs came up to circle and rub his nipples, hoping to earn another blush. This was nice, being outside in the field hidden by grass with him. He could not remember the last time he felt like his life meant something.

Castiel gasped when Dean's fingers found a place he did not even know was sensitive. "I feel hot again," he confessed as the blood seemed to flow downward.

Dean thrilled and felt a gentle tingling through his body. "No... no, it’s good," he told him encouragingly, his hands giving his nipples a break and instead teasing his navel. "Don't try to fight it." One of his fingers trailed down his navel and stopped at the edge of his oversized sweats.

Castiel tried to still his hips but he could not help but thrust down. "Dean..."

Dean gasped when Castiel's hips seemed to have a mind of their own separate from the rest of him and instead of backing off for fear of scaring his angel, his legs wrapped around him tighter for fear of him slipping away. His hands came to firmly grip Castiel's slim hips and forcefully guiding them to gyrate hard against his own. "Like that..." He whispered heatedly against his lips.

Something was building up inside Castiel, like he was on the edge of a cliff and all he had to do was jump. And yet he could not. Something was holding him back. He made a low whining sound and his hips suddenly stopped moving. He buried his face back in Dean's neck where he felt safest.

Dean had to swallow and remind himself that he could not take things as fast as he wanted with Castiel. Dean was used to the feeling of arousal, probably way more than any human should be, but Castiel was new to these sensations. His hand came to run his fingers through Castiel's black hair as his face hid in his neck. "I'm gonna have to get used to my hand," he teased in a whisper, wondering if Castiel would even understand what he meant.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said.

Dean nuzzled Castiel affectionately in a way that he hoped told him not to apologize for something like that. Instead, his hands came to wrap loosely around his waist over his shirt. "You were getting horny. You just can't resist me. But one of these days, you’re going to have to give your virginity to me," he teased lightheartedly, because it was pretty sure the only way to take his mind off of the demands he felt from his body.

Castiel sighed and kissed Dean's neck before sitting up on his forearms and looking down into Dean's green eyes. He kissed the tip of Dean's nose. "You possess every part of me already," he told him.

You don’t know how true that really is, Dean thought to himself. Something held him back from telling Castiel how every inch of him was purposed for him. It was strange to say it out loud. "I know," he answered instead. "But like you said, I have no patience." He grinned, not wanting to make him feel guilty, but finding the temptation to make him blush irresistible.

"I know, but do you think you could have a little for me?" Castiel asked sweetly, feeling unsure. Dean was a very sexual person and Castiel did not know if he would be able to wait. Even if Dean did find someone else, Castiel would not leave him, he could not.

Ever since Dean got back from Hell, sex had been mechanical, faked, and empty. He went through the motions, but his heart and his passion remained too distant for him to reach. Something was missing. A large part of him remained tortured in Hell. This was, of course, until Castiel came along, with his wide blue eyes and tussled black hair and slim hips. Suddenly, his body felt the spark of life again.

"I hope you know that when I finally get those pants off you I'll never let you out of my bed," Dean chuckled.

"I do not plan on being anywhere else," Castiel vowed, even though he knew Dean was avoiding answering his question. That was okay, he decided. At least Dean did not lie to him. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he felt the strong and familiar presence of another beside them. He quickly rolled off of Dean to stand at the sight of Gabriel

"Having fun boys?" The arch angel asked with a threatening look pointed at Dean.

The soft breeze and sound of rustling wings startled Dean and he jumped to his feet. He narrowed his eyes at the trickster. "Oh, you can go fuck yourself. What the hell are you doing here? Cas said no to you," he growled. He wondered how long he was watching him. "You voyeuristic freak."

Gabriel laughed, and suddenly was right in front of Dean. "I'm the sick one? Who's the one so eager to rip the last shred of innocence from the only pure soul left on this filthy planet?" He whispered harshly, as if to keep Castiel out of the conversation.

Dean decided to play along in the most menacing way he could. "Oh, I wouldn't call Cas pure. He's was the one on top of me, all hot and needy. I think he'll make a damn good lay," he grinned, taking a brave step closer to Gabriel to show his defiance.

"With a mere thought, I could make your head explode," Gabriel threatened, and that was when Castiel placed a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder, hoping to deter him away from smiting his mate.

“Gabriel, please,” he tried to soothe him, but the angel ignored it.

Dean, furious by the fact that the dick with wings was still here, made more of a show of grabbing Castiel by the waist and pulling him close. Gabriel was not going to kill him. At least, not again. His hands grabbed Castiel's ass and squeezing it through his baggy sweats in a dramatic display.

Castiel yelped and pushed Dean away, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture as his blush tinged his cheeks. He looked from Dean to Gabriel and back to Dean as they glared into each other’s eyes during their face off.

Dean clenched his jaw in frustration when Castiel reacted the way he did. "You're really not helping, Cas," he glared at his companion, wishing he was not the only one sticking up for them right now.

"Helping with what!?" Castiel yelled, surprising himself. "I don't understand any of these human games you play!" He shouted again before turning to stomp back to Bobby’s house. He knew Gabriel would not hurt Dean, and Dean could not hurt Gabriel. He was sick of all of it.

Dean was shocked by Castiel's unexpected reaction. Did Castiel want to return with Gabriel now that he was back a second time? Is that what made him react that way? He turned to Gabriel as if all fault sat with him. "I don't have time to play your games, either. Go piss off," he growled before turning to follow Castiel at his slow human rate. Maybe by the time he got back to the house, Castiel would be calm and Gabriel would go to Hell.

"Problems in paradise? And so soon too, such a shame," Gabriel watched Dean go with a mocking smile. "I'll be watching you Winchester, so keep your filthy hands off my brother," he warned.

Dean turned around to give another cocky remark, but he heard a rush of wings and was met only with the open air. He glared at the spot Gabriel once stood, suddenly alone.

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

Dean glared at the empty place Gabriel once stood and walked slowly back into the house. Instead of going after Castiel, he slumped down heavily in an arm chair next to Bobby's desk where the older man sat.

"Don't give me that look. He's a little drama queen. And I keep getting cock-blocked by a fucking archangel." He did not have to look at Bobby to know he was thinking he ruined everything again.

Bobby only rolled his eyes. "You've been moping around here since you got back, Princess. If there is a drama queen in this relationship it's you," Bobby told him. "And stop taking your frustrations out on Sam, he's got enough to worry about without you barking at him every five seconds."

Dean glared at Bobby angrily. "He punched Cas!"

"Oh, get over it. He needed to learn and it’s better that he to do it with Sam than an army of demons," Bobby said, before he shoved an open book over to Dean. "Look familiar?" He asked knowingly. Bobby had noticed Castiel's tattoos in the time they had spent together and had finally found a book with the Enochian language written out.

"Yeah, very familiar," Dean nodded, studying the page and remembering the design on Castiel’s back. "What does it mean?" He asked. He wondered if Castiel even knew he had the tattoos, and Dean realized he probably did not.

Bobby sighed. "So far I have only been able to translate a part of it. The section right between his shoulder blades means, ‘Righteous Man from The Valley’,” he said, and it was clear that Dean was not quite getting it, he added, "Your name means 'from the valley'."

Bobby pulled out another book. "I also think the placement is important. According to legend, an angel only allows their mate to touch their wings. So I don't think it’s a coincidence that he has your name tattooed in that particular spot."

Dean instantly put up a defensive wall up at Bobby's ability to know so much about him and is a little overwhelmed at the same time with this new piece of information. "And how are you so sure he's my 'mate'?" He snickered at the wording, never having thought about it like that before and embarrassed at how much it made sense.

"Just a hunch," Bobby said sarcastically, just as Sam came in and sat down beside Dean. He was acting like he was trying not to be noticed despite his six foot four frame.

"Still mad at me?" He asked his brother.

Dean sighed deeply. "I'll let you live," he agreed, if only to make things easier, before turning his attention back to Bobby. "Maybe Cas can translate it. I don't think he knows they inked up his body before throwing him down here. Now if only he wasn't mad at me..." He sighed. The script was beautiful, no matter what any of it said. Part of him did not even want to know what it meant.

"Sam, go tell Featherhead to get down here," Bobby ordered, and Sam got up to do as he was told. "Dean, bring that mirror down and prop it up against the wall.”

Dean was not going to let that happen. It was bad enough that he had ruined things with Castiel. He did not want everyone else in the house to exploit him. Besides, Bobby had said it himself. No one was to touch his wings but him. "Like hell I will," Dean shook his head. Besides, it would only make Castiel angrier at him to be put on the spot.

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean, just when Sam came back down the stairs alone. "He's got himself locked in the bedroom and he won't answer me."

Dean gave his brother a look before standing up and walking out of the room. "Mind your own business, both of you," he growled a warning before making his way to the bedroom. He did not bother to knock before he effortlessly picked the lock and let himself in.

Castiel was startled when Dean burst into the room. "I thought when one locked a door it meant for others to keep out," the fallen angel said, his eyes not looking up from the book he was reading. He was sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up and his back against the pillows.

Dean felt his heart twisted and squeezed with pain at the feeling of being unwelcome in Castiel's presence. He wondered how they managed to fight this much this soon, and wondered how much worse it will be later. He vowed to try and never let it get that way. He had enough rivalry with his brother. He did not want the same with Castiel.

"Nope, you've got it backwards... closed doors are an open invitation in this house," Dean tried to tease, forcing a fake smile, but unable to hold it there long. It did not matter anyway. Castiel was too engrossed in his book. Dean stared at the leather bound pages jealously. "I'm here to protect you. Bobby wants to decode the Enochian tattoo on your back," he came out with the truth.

Castiel looked up, startled. "The what?" He asked. He sat up from the bed and jerked his shirt off quickly before standing up and turning around to look at himself in the dresser mirror, but struggling to do so.

Dean approached him slowly and stood close behind him, his hand coming to trace the design carefully as if he were painting it on himself. He wondered if Castiel could read it just by following the trail of his finger. He waited for Castiel to be the first to speak, still feeling rotten for doing nothing but ruining their chances since the first night he lain in his bed.

"It's some kind of spell, written in high Enochian. I cannot translate it fully," Castiel said, staring now at the wall in front of him instead of the mirror. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the ghost like touch of Dean's fingers. He knew what the sigil in between his shoulder blades meant, but he did not know if he was ready to share it. He shivered when Dean's fingers touched the sensitive places where his wings once were.

Dean's fingers continued their light travels and soon his lips found the space between his shoulder blades in a soft kiss over the design that said his name, hoping to show Castiel without words that he knew exactly what that meant. He did not care if he had been forgiven or not then. The need to touch Castiel then was too strong to remember manners or the importance of personal space.

He noticed Castiel's avoidance of himself in the mirror and kissed him one more time on each shoulder blade before asking, "You've never looked at yourself in the mirror like this before?"

"No," Castiel answered honestly, forgetting that he was supposed to be angry at Dean with each touch. "I do not like it. It is not me," he tried to explain.

Dean knew Castiel's acceptance into his human life and human body was not going to happen overnight, and he could not say he could imagine what it must feel like. But he did know it made him feel extremely guilty, especially because he knew Castiel was crafted in an image that would appease Dean. Just looking at him told him that. And for as long as Castiel felt depressed about falling, Dean would hate himself for causing it.

"What don't you like about it? It is you. Otherwise, someone would have put you in a different body. Gabriel and Michael had to find someone else's body to steal... but you were put into yours," he tried to coax him, his hands trailing all over his back now in no particular direction at all. A deep fear was awakened in his heart that wanted to ask if Castiel was regretting his decision to stay.

Castiel turned around to face Dean. His hands reaching out for the other man automatically, coming to rest on his waist. "It's not like yours. It's smaller and shorter and not nearly as beautiful."

Dean, just happy to be forgiven even though deep down he didn't think he did a thing wrong, laughed and kissed him fondly on the mouth. "Cas, I know I'm drop dead gorgeous, but that only means I need an even hotter boy toy," he teased, knowing Castiel may not get what he was saying. "Don't be insecure. Shouldn't the only thing that matters be that I think you're perfect?"

"You think I am perfect?" Castiel asked, looking up and meeting Dean's eyes with his own. "I was perfect, but like this, I feel... not so perfect," he said lamely. He suddenly did not want to talk about this anymore so he let his mind wander. Thinking back to what happened outside, he had to ask, "Before, when you did that in front of Gabriel... I know I do not understand a lot of things, so maybe you could explain it to me?"

Dean sighed. "I don't know. I was trying to show the asshole that you and me were kinda good for each other, but I guess I proved the opposite to him. I was trying to provoke him but instead provoked you," he tried to put it into words, but he never was really good at explaining his actions. Usually, he just did things in the heat of the moment and they were what they were.

"Dean, you do not have to prove anything to him. It was my choice to stay with you. It is where I was meant to be. You should not let him goad you like this," he said, pulling Dean closer so they were chest to chest. It was strange how he seemed unable to stop touching the human. But then, thinking of the tattoo on his back, maybe it was not so strange at all.

Dean sighed and nuzzled his neck. He hoped outside this bedroom the others had forgotten about their attempts to read Castiel's tattoo. He didn't think he wanted to share it with anyone else. "Well, now he thinks I'm an idiot, so I guess it doesn't matter," he shrugged.

"There is no need to protect me from your brother or Bobby, you know. I do not mind showing them my back but I do not think he will have any luck decoding it," Castiel whispered.

Dean knew that much was true. If Castiel himself could not translate all of it, then he was sure no human would. "Then there's no point in showing him then." He hoped Castiel would agree.

Castiel shrugged, not caring either way. They could both hear the telephone ringing downstairs and Bobby's deep tones answering it. "It sounds like you are getting a case,” Castiel said, listening in on the conversation with his heightened sense of hearing.

Dean chose to ignore the commotion downstairs and instead concentrate on the one good thing in his life, clinging to it as if his life depended on it. "I don't care," he sighed, and moved over to the bed and collapsed back-first onto the mattress. "Wake me up after the world ends.”

Castiel watched Dean for a moment before he sighed and crawled into bed with his human. Instead of lying beside Dean, he laid down right on top of him, linking his fingers on Dean's chest and resting his chin on them so he could still watch Dean closely.

Dean kept his eyes closed but smirked when he felt Castiel's pleasant weight on top of him. He sighed, feeling the other's body rising and falling with the movement of his chest. He finally opened his eyes to find Castiel watching him. He laughed softly. "You're like a cat waiting for breakfast," he teased, and his hands finally could not hold their distance any longer and travelled down to Castiel's legs, pushing up his knees and separating them to opposite sides of his hips so he was straddling him.

Castiel sat up a bit on Dean’s hips. "I like watching you," he told him honestly.

Dean thrilled at the ease to which he put Castiel in this new position. The angel's light weight was pressing down on him in all the right places, but he knew he could not go further. "I could get used to it," he shrugged. He did not really mind that Castiel liked to watch him. It made him feel oddly safe in ways he really could not explain.

"I don't know what an angel wants with a human, though. You're used to perfection, like you said. But I'm just a mud monkey," Dean thought out loud.

"Don't call yourself that," Castiel chastised him, "I've always been fascinated by humans." His hands idly picked at Dean's shirt, and the thought that he should not be the only one shirtless popped into his head, but he made no move to remove it himself.

Dean slid his shirt over his head to reveal his chest, finding the temptation of skin on skin irresistible. "That's all? Just interesting? What do you like about me?" He asked with a seductive grin.

Castiel let his hands explore Dean's chest now that it was available to him. "You have a very bright soul. It is like looking into the sun," Castiel told him, not realizing that was probably not what the hunter was looking for.

Dean snickered. "Like looking into the sun with human eyes? ‘Cuz that hurts." He was sure, however, that looking at the sun through angel eyes was quite different. His own hands itched to explore Castiel but he remembered that it would not appease his body's demands. He could not keep letting Castiel touch him like this, as innocent as it was. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed, and gently wrapped his own hands around Castiel's to guide them away.

Castiel looked hurt and confused, and he placed his hands on his own thighs so he would not be tempted to touch Dean again. "I have not tried looking into the sun with human eyes," he told Dean.

Dean shook his head. "Don't try it. I don't want a blind fallen angel to take care of," he warned, and pulled him down into a kiss because his hands and lips were desperate to do something… anything. "Do you like kissing?" He asked softly against his lips after the kiss ended.

"Yes, very much so," Castiel said, "I like the way you taste."

Dean quickly realized that stopping his hands did not mean Castiel could no longer drive him to insanity. "Oh, you haven't even tasted me yet," he teased, and Castiel thought about tasting other parts of Dean's body and blushed.

Dean bit back a laugh, his hands comforting as they rubbed his back. "I just keep corrupting you, don't I? But here you are half naked and straddling my hips and I just can't help but think of you tasting me."

Castiel shivered automatically and burrowed further into Dean's embrace. He smiled when Dean just squeezed him tighter and he decided to do some teasing of his own and let his tongue sneak out to taste his companion’s neck.

"Stop that," Dean moaned, and his body convulsed in a shiver of its own. "You're gonna get me hard again, and you'll leave me alone to fix it myself." He wondered how dirty he could talk before he sent Castiel into a blush so deep it flushed his whole body down to his toes.

"How would you fix it?" The fallen angel asked, his head cocked a bit to the side.

Dean smiled fondly at Castiel's innocence. But hey, he thought, the boy wanted to learn. "By touching myself," Dean explained bluntly, and his hand snaked down to slip underneath his jeans to grasp his half-hard erection beneath its denim restraints.

Castiel's eyes followed Dean's hand and his eyes widened. He bit his lip and his blush deepened, but he did not look away. "And that helps?"

Dean was encouraged when Castiel did not shrink off in fear like he imagined he would. "Temporarily, yeah,” Dean said. His voice was even thicker and rougher than usual now, and his hand slowly began to stoke his cock. He breathed slowly and heavily now, transfixed through half lidded eyes on the wide blue oceans looking down at him. Dean wondered if those doe-eyed orbs were another piece of heaven Castiel took with him when he fell. "Do you want me to stop?" He whispered.

"No. Don't stop," Castiel said, watching Dean's hand move underneath his jeans. He wanted to reach out and touch but he kept his hands where they were, squeezing his thighs tightly.

That was all the encouragement Dean needed. He tended to jump into situations without thinking, especially the sexual kind, because he never needed to think twice about it before. "Good. I don't want to stop," he breathed. His other hand unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, as Dean's boxer briefs were far more stretchable than the denim. He wanted to pull himself out completely, but he wanted Castiel to be the first to initiate that.

Dean's eyes wandered restlessly to Castiel's perfect chest, its hairless and boyish appearance with only a neat trail of black hair that led from his belly button down to his uncharted areas. His hand stroked himself faster.

"What's it feel like?" Castiel asked curiously. He distantly heard a knock at the front door of the house and the sound of female voices, but it was hard to concentrate when Dean was spread out underneath him, cheeks flushed and eyes roaming his chest hungrily.

"Dean, get down here. We have company!" They heard Bobby yell.

The sound of Bobby's voice instantly thwarted Dean’s efforts and his hand stilled. The shock took a moment to sink into his brain that was foggy with lust, and the frustration settled inside him stronger than before. "Dammit!" He growled in anger, and clenched his jaw and shut his eyes.

Castiel finally lost it when Dean stopped. He reached down to pull Dean's hand out of his pants and pinned both of his lover’s wrists to the bed. He scooted down so that he was now in between Dean's legs and he frantically began to grind his own painful erection into his.

Dean almost fainted from shock when his angel seemed to lose every bit of control that he did not even know he was holding back. He moaned loudly in surprise and his hands that were not tending to himself anymore grasped Castiel’s hips firmly that were moving against his.

Dean felt drugged off of lust and his body tingled with the loss of control over its demands. It was as though the delicate balance in the room was disrupted by the pure and sudden chaos of this moment. His hips came to meet Castiel's with each thrust and he panted underneath him. "Mmm, that's it... fuck that's it..." He breathed encouragingly.

Castiel's rising orgasm was sweeping up on him much too quickly, and this time, he was too out of control to worry about the overwhelming feeling warming his body. His lips found Dean's and after one last frantic thrust, he came in Dean's hand-me-down sweat pants. He cried out and collapsed onto Dean, unable to hold himself up any longer.

Dean felt Castiel's orgasm building up with each thrust. He watched, transfixed, as it swept through his body and he felt the tremors and waves of the climax take him for the first time. It was not a second later that Dean grunted and let his own orgasm take him, cumming messily in his boxer briefs. By the end of it, Dean was panting heavily and his body was still shaking a little, but a deep satisfaction settled inside him that could be described as nothing less than euphoric.

"You okay?" He whispered into Castiel's ear.

Castiel nodded shakily against Dean's neck. He had never felt anything so intense before, not since he fell from Heaven. He clung a little tighter to Dean as if he were scared the other man would suddenly disappear and he would be left to deal with these new sensations alone.

Dean breathed heavily as the aftershocks of the orgasm still swept over him. "It was good though, right?" His hands came to ghost over his back, obsessing over the dip of his spine. Dean did not think he had ever a better orgasm in his life, even though it had happened with clothes still on and no actual intercourse.

"Yes," Castiel said quietly. He heard Bobby downstairs calling Dean's name again and his voice sounded impatient.

Dean smiled lazily and kissed a bruise on Castiel's neck, wishing he could just lay in the sex coma he was sinking into. Dean bit his soft flesh softly before licking over the darkened area."They're going to think something bad happened if we keep hiding. And I don't know why the hell Bobby has visitors," he sighed.

Castiel sat up a bit and looked down between their bodies. "I do not own any other pants," he said, worriedly. He did not want to be stuck up in the bedroom while Dean left him to see what was going on.

The angst written on Castiel's face was enough to melt every part of Dean, including his heart. His hand came up to smooth up and down his lover's arm. "It's okay, I have plenty. I like you wearing my clothes, anyway." Dean grunted as he sat up, giving Castiel a kiss on the cheek before standing up shakily.

Castiel stood up as well, feeling uncoordinated and sticky. He made a face as he pulled at the waist band of his pants. "Maybe we should shower first."

Dean tried not to laugh and found two relatively clean pair of jeans, throwing one to Castiel and walking towards the bathroom with the other. "You shower... I need to go downstairs before they think we got killed and find out who the hell is here." He was actually kind of worried, now that he was thinking straight, and he shut the bathroom door behind him. He arose a second later, much cleaner.

Castiel waited until Dean came back before he spoke again. "Perhaps it's good news?" He suggested, hoping to lighten up Dean's darkened spirits. He walked past the hunter into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, because all he could think about was getting the sticky pants off.

Dean looked away quickly when Castiel stripped himself of his sweats and made his way quickly to the door, catching only a glimpse of his ass. He knew if he looked, he would never leave the room. He would have plenty of time to stare at Castiel naked, he tried to assure himself. "I'll be downstairs," he told his companion before closing the door behind him.

Dean should have known who it was before coming down to the living room. Ellen and Jo were seated on the couch and he hoped they were not going to ask him how he was. "Family reunion? So glad I'm invited," he joked, impatient and ready for someone to tell him what was going on.

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

"We’ve got a present for you," Jo announced mischievously as she laid the Colt down on the coffee table in front of Dean. "It seems not all demons are excited about Lucifer being set free. We even have a location of where he will be in a few days time."

Dean smirked at the old friend in front of him and picked up the gun lovingly. He looked it over for any evidence of fraud, but found it as authentic as it ever was. "Another nice present... I'm a lucky guy," he chuckled to himself. "So which one gave it to you? And why would you trust anything they say? Every single one I've met worships Lucifer and is just as slimy as he is." Dean gave a questioning glance over at Sam.

Bobby wheeled in and handed Ellen and Jo a beer. "You owe me a new kitchen light," he told Dean as he took a sip of his own beer. Just then, Castiel walked down the stairs, fresh from the shower and wearing Dean's clothes. "Well, really, you do," Bobby said when he spotted the fallen angel, "But I am pretty damn sure it's Dean's fault."

Castiel, understanding what must have happened, blushed and sat down beside Dean as Sam made introductions. He realized that Sam must have already explained Castiel’s situation to the strangers in the room, because both women were looking at him curiously.

Dean did not really know why anyone owed anyone a new light bulb, but he had a feeling it was somehow connected to what they were just doing upstairs. Dean ignored Bobby and stood up observe the gun in better light, looking for any kind of hidden catch.

"So who was babysitting her?" Dean asked again. "Does this thing really have a shot at the devil?"

"A demon named Crowley," Ellen answered, since her daughter seemed to be eying Castiel. Ellen did not think her daughter had ever gotten over her school girl crush on Dean, even if the girl denied it. "And I think this is our best and only bet right now. It's supposed to be able to kill anything supernatural."

Dean's eyes came to rest on Castiel and he swung the gun around his fingers to show off in front of everyone in the room. "Well, can it, Cas?" He asked.

"Lucifer is a very powerful Archangel... it seems unlikely," Castiel said honestly. Sometimes, he felt like he was only the bearer of bad news and misfortune. He had been created after Lucifer's fall, but he had heard stories of the Morningstar's beauty and power. "However… He is weakened right now, not being in his true vessel," Castiel suggested hopefully, his blue eyes shyly meeting Sam's apologetically, knowing Sam did not like discussing such matters.

Dean eyed Castiel and wondered if he was just saying that to lighten the despair and hopelessness that was crowding the room. "Yeah, well... everything about killing the devil is unlikely. But unless anyone has any better ideas I say we take this to his face."

Castiel did not like the idea of Dean being anywhere close enough to Lucifer to fire that gun, but he knew saying so now would only hurt Dean's pride.

"Well boys," Jo said, standing up. "This could be our last night on Earth, we should celebrate."

***

Dean knocked back another shot of whiskey and thought of how much it would take to get an angel drunk. He smirked to himself at the thought, but before he could leave the kitchen to find Castiel, his body collided with that of Jo who was standing right behind him with an expected smile on her face. Dean grinned wide, the warmth of the drink settling pleasantly in his chest. "Fancy seein' you here," he teased.

Jo smiled back at him charmingly. "What can I say? I just couldn't stay away from you," she teased right back. "So you’ve got your own guardian angel now?"

In the living room, Ellen had talked Sam into dancing with an 'old woman' but now was starting to regret it as her feet kept getting stepped on. Castiel watched them curiously. Dancing was interesting, and he had never seen anyone doing it. He wondered what was taking Dean so long in the kitchen.

Dean was taken aback by the question, but over the years, he had become an expert at holding his poker face in place. He smiled confidently and took another strong swig of the now half-empty bottle, pouring the liquid courage down his throat.

"Hmm, I guess you could say that. A nerdy little good luck charm," he shrugged, as if it was nothing at all. In reality, every second he spent away from Castiel depressed him, like an aching hole in his chest that no alcohol or other person could fill, no matter how pretty and drunk they were. But that did not stop Dean from leaning in close. "But don't worry. No need to be jealous," he teased very close to her ear.

"I'm not jealous," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Dean's neck. "But if this is our last night on Earth, there’s no need for either of us to sleep alone."

In the living room, Castiel started to feel a bit odd with Dean not close to him. As he stood up to look for Dean, Bobby handed him some empty beer bottles and asked him to throw them away. When he entered the kitchen, he was so surprised at the sight before him that he dropped the bottles and they broke on the floor.

"I apologize for intruding," he said quickly, not looking at either of the occupants of the room. He immediately bent down and tried to clean up the mess, and not knowing any better, he cut his hands on the glass. He was too upset to think straight and kept trying to pick the remaining pieces up instead of initiating the natural human reaction of pulling his hands away.

Before Dean could let what Jo said sink in past the alcohol that seemed to absorb all sense and reason, a giant crash erupted and he jumped instinctively. At the sight of blood, Dean immediately leapt over to him and grabbed both his bleeding hands away from the mess. He forced Castiel to his feet, sobering up instantly. "Cas! Don't touch that. Come here... now look what you did," his voice was soft even though he was clearly annoyed.

Jo went to get a dust pan, but was watching their interaction closely as she cleaned up the mess. Ellen came in a moment later to see what all the noise was about and grabbed Bobby's first aid kit. Castiel did not say anything as he stared at his bleeding hands.

"Here, I'll clean him up," Ellen offered Dean.

"Let's go out on the porch, Dean. She said she's got it covered," Jo tried to coax Dean out of the kitchen.

Dean's hands on Castiel's bleeding ones clenched him harder as if Ellen was going to snatch him away. "No, everyone just leave him alone," he muttered a little defensively, and grabbed the first aid kit before pulling Castiel out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom.

His hands came to grip Castiel's hips, easing him to sit on the countertop by the sink. "You're a clumsy little thing, aren't you? You trip over clouds in heaven, too?" His voice was soft with affection.

"Ellen said she could help me," Castiel said, still not looking at Dean. "You can go back out and join Joanna. I am fine."

When he realized that Castiel was obviously upset with him, Dean’s heart sank to the floor and he dropped Castiel's hands. "Oh, so you like Ellen better now? Why's that, ‘cuz she stayed sober?" He glared.

Castiel did not understand Dean's sudden anger. "I just thought you wanted to spend some time with Jo. I can clean this up myself," he said quietly, turning on the faucet to run water over his hands.

Dean snorted and watched as Castiel tried to remember how Dean had mended his lip before. "Don't be stupid, you don't know how to take care of yourself." Even still, Dean did not take back possession of Castiel's hands. If the angel did not want his help, he was not going to force it on him. "And why would I want to spend more time with Jo? Is that what this is about? You think I'm gonna jump on Ellen's daughter? She'd kill me!" He should have known what this was about. Castiel was jealous, and he probably had every right to be, and Castiel’s pride would not allow him to admit that out loud.

"But you still want her," Castiel said simply. His pride had bristled when Dean said he could not take care of himself. He could, he just needed a little direction sometimes. He turned off the water and looked down at his hands, perplexed when he saw they had not stopped bleeding. He sighed in defeat and turned around to face Dean, holding his hands out towards him in a silent question for help.

Dean sighed and grabbed Castiel's hands a little roughly, taking two clean, damp cloths and wrapping them individually to apply the pressure that would stop the bleeding. "Trust me... if I wanted her I'd have her already," he growled, because it was true.

Castiel hissed when Dean wrapped his hands. "Ow," he said quietly, believing that to be the correct English word to express his pain. It was entirely possible that he had just misunderstood the situation, and now he felt guilty for feeling anger towards Dean and Jo. After all, nothing had happened. And why worry about what could have happened?

The pain on Castiel’s face melted Dean's drunken heart instantly and he forgot about being defensive and angry. He held Castiel’s hands wrapped in the damp cloths as he waited for the bleeding to stop. "Aww," he cooed affectionately and kissed his lover's jaw soothingly. "Promise me you'll be more careful. I'd like to keep you in one piece," he whispered, his tone gentle and forgiving now.

Castiel, of course, had no resolve when it came to Dean, and melted instantly. "I did not realize it would cut me so easily," he admitted.

Dean's kisses continued down Castiel’s neck, trying to distract him from the pain. "You didn't think broken glass would cut you?" He supposed it made sense. In the heat of the moment, Castiel forgot about the reality of blood and injury. "Come on... your big nerdy brain has to know these things now. What am I supposed to do if my guardian angel keeps hurting himself?" He half teased.

Castiel felt ashamed. If he could not deal with something so simple, how was he supposed to be able to protect Dean, too? "I'll be more careful," he promised.

Dean, still drunk, chuckled a little at Castiel's somber response and tried again to kiss away any despair. His lips smacked against his in short little kisses. "Hey... come on, I was teasing. You also gotta learn not to take me too seriously." Dean was still set on having fun tonight, and getting hammered, and he was not going to let a sad Castiel damper his efforts. He unwrapped Castiel’s hands from their warm compresses and wiped away the blood.

"Maybe drinks will loosen you up," he grinned as he thought out loud.

Castiel knew that teasing was a form of affection. "If you want," he said, and this time, it was Castiel who stole a kiss from Dean.

Dean smirked and deepened the kiss until his tongue probed his. "Mmm, I want," he purred suggestively.

"Okay," Castiel said, looking a little dazed after the kiss ended. "You taste like alcohol."

Dean laughed before kissing Castiel once more, just because he said that. "That just means you have some catching up to do, and then you won't be able to taste it anymore, and you can keep kissing me. And then I can take you to bed," his voice dropped as he whispered against his ear. "And maybe I can get you to break more light bulbs." He bit his neck softly.

Castiel took a sharp intake of breath. "I do not wish to make Bobby angry," he tried to protest, despite the fact that he was already melting into Dean and could deny him nothing.

Dean laughed. "He's not angry," he promised, not really caring if he was. "And besides... practice makes perfect. Maybe you'll learn to control it, the more you do it," he suggested, his hands slid up Castiel's thighs.

"I do not think I can control that any more than I can control... other things," he admitted sadly as Dean's hands slid up his legs. Remembering they were in the downstairs bathroom, he placed his hands over Dean's to stop them. “We should go back out there with the others."

Dean simply could not keep his hands off of him, and he was not about to stop just so they could go be social. Being drunk did not help his self control, either. "Maybe I don't want you to control those other things," he teased, and pulled Castiel's hips against his.

Castiel let himself be maneuvered by Dean. He kissed his jaw line and down till he got to Dean's collarbone, kissing wherever the T-shirt exposed skin. "I want to go with you tomorrow."

Dean moaned encouragingly when Castiel’s lips explored him, until, of course, he realized why Castiel was doing it. He had not taught Castiel the “do's and don't's” of timing when bringing up a controversial issue. "You're getting better at the art of persuasion... but I'm still not letting you near Lucifer," he insisted, and grabbed Castiel by the shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes.

"I do not have to be near him… just as close as you are too him,” Castiel protested. He was a soldier, after all, even in his weakened human form. Yet he had taken orders his whole life so it was hard for him to fight the instinct to do as he was told.

"Cas." Dean said his name sternly. "Shut up."

Dean kissed him hard, tilting his head as his tongue came to find his. This way, the angel could not give another rebuttal. Castiel moaned into the kiss, his legs automatically tightening around Dean's waist to pull him closer. His hands came up to tangle in Dean's hair but he quickly pulled them away at the sting of his wounds. The hunter kissed him softer and grabbed his lover's painful hands to hold them still.

Dean broke the kiss to gaze through hazy, drunken eyes into the wide blue storms of Castiel's. "You know... I bet you still have your wings," he hypothesized.

"That isn’t funny, Dean," Castiel glared a little bit at him. The last thing he had felt as an angel was his wings burning. They could not have survived the fall.

Dean frowned and tried to kiss him apologetically. "I'm not saying it to be funny," he replied honestly. His hands travelled up Castiel's shirt, around to his back, until his palms lay flat against his shoulder blades where he knew his name rested permanently. "I have a feeling they're still there. And I want to see them."

Castiel leaned towards dean and rested his forehead against his chest. He shivered into the touch. "There is nothing there," he said quietly.

Dean shook his head in denial, remembering something about angels only letting their mates touch their wings. Dean continued to run his hands up and down Castiel's back as if trying to coax them to appear. "I think you just have to know they're there. And then they will be."

Castiel sighed and shook his head, and a knock on the door made them both jump. "You boys need to get out here and be sociable," Bobby’s voice said.

Dean drew Castiel closer to him until his lover's legs were spread around his hips. "I'd rather take you upstairs," he teased, his voice low and spoken directly into his ear, because it seemed to be the only thing on his drunken mind now.

"You can do that later," Castiel promised him. He did not want Dean to miss out on spending time with his family and friends.

Dean smirked and gently patted Castiel's ass. "Fine... that's a promise, then. Come on, I'm gonna introduce you to my friend Jack." He finally detached himself from his angel and coaxed him to follow.

"You do not have a friend named Jack," Castiel told him as he hopped gracefully off the counter.

Dean chuckled and opened the door, and finally the world was a reality again. "Oh, I do. We go way back. Come on, I'll show you." He walked ahead and towards the kitchen where the grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself a shot.

Ellen, Jo, and Sam where in the kitchen playing a game of strip poker. Sam was pouting, obviously losing, and down to his boxers and wife beater. Not wanting to be the only loser, he spotted Castiel trailing behind Dean and smiled.

"Castiel, come play poker with us," he said, and Ellen laughed and added teasingly, "Yeah, come on over here Blue Eyes and we will see what you are hiding under those baggy clothes. Dean, get over here too and bring that liquor."

Dean screamed inside with frustration and downed the shot down his throat, hoping it would somehow save him. The thought of Castiel bearing more skin in front of everyone than Dean had gotten to see himself made his fists clench in anger. But what would they think if he refused? Dean had never turned down a game of poker, especially the stripping kind.

"Cas doesn't know how to play. I don't think they play strip poker in Heaven." He thought he found the perfect excuse.

"We can teach him," Jo shrugged, pushing out the chair next to her. "Come on Dean, sit beside me," she offered, and Castiel frowned, but took a seat next to Sam. Dean sat down on the available chair next to Jo that he was sure she was saving for him. He sighed, knowing no matter how fast a learner Castiel was, he was doomed to lose. Dean could not let it happen.

Of course, Castiel lost the first hand, and all he was wearing was a T-shirt and jeans. "All right, Angel Boy. Off with the shirt!" Jo snickered, not really expecting much, but her jaw dropped in surprise when Castiel stripped hesitantly to reveal his chest. Castiel was not built like Sam or Dean, but was built more like a swimmer or a dancer with lean, wiry muscles. Sam kicked Jo under the table and she quickly shut her mouth and went back to the game.

Castiel could not clumsily slip the shirt off all the way before Dean growled and stood up so fast his chair flew to the floor behind him. "Alright, that's enough." He wanted to grab Castiel by the arm and shove him out of the room, but he knew it would just make the situation worse. "I can't get one second's peace!" He screamed, so loud he rivaled Castiel's real voice that broke glass. He stormed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him, and sat angrily on the porch stairs, taking the bottle of Jack Daniels to mouth.

Castiel went to follow him, but was stopped when Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes, when he gets like that. It's best to leave him alone for a bit," he said, speaking from years of experience dealing with his brother's volatile mood shifts.

It was Bobby who went to check on Dean, wheeling out onto the porch to make sure the boy was not going to do anything stupid. "Possessive much?" He asked in a sarcastic tone, but a gentle pat on Dean’s shoulder told him something else entirely.

When Dean heard wheels roll up to him, he stared into the night and took another swig of his whiskey. "I'm not possessive. I just don't know why you all had to drag him into that," he accused, not turning to look at Bobby.

"I know you've never had anyone that was fully yours before," Bobby says awkwardly because he was not good at these heart to hearts, but knew this was something Dean needed you hear. "But you’re gonna have to let him out into the world sometime. He needs to learn to interact with other people and make friends..."

Dean knew he could not shelter Castiel any more than he could have sheltered his little brother. The boy had a natural curiosity about everything, and he was just going to get bored if Dean kept him in a bubble. But that did not mean strip poker. "It doesn't mean his new 'friends' have to get him naked!" He shot back angrily, but immediately regretted it. He knew Bobby was trying to help.

Bobby was about to reply but Castiel came flying through the screen door so fast he about tore it off. Castiel visibly relaxed when he saw Dean sitting on the porch with Bobby, but his eyes immediately flew to the dark woods surrounding the property. "Something is trying to get through the sigils," he said, his eyes not leaving a spot in the distance.

"The ones you put up all over the house?" Bobby asked, now alert.

Dean's drunken mind flew into a panic and he didn't know what to do next. For a second he just stared trying to absorb the reality of the situation and wishing he hadn't drunk so much. "What? You put them up over the house too?" He asked, not understanding.

"The house is protected from demons, but Castiel put some sigils up too, to keep the angels out," Bobby explained, and looked at Castiel knowingly. "It's an angel working to get in."

Dean stumbled drunkenly over to Castiel, grabbed him firmly by the arm and dragged him inside the house. "Get inside," he huffed, because he was pretty sure he knew exactly what angel was trying to get through. Unless, of course, Lucifer was coming early.

Castiel tried to protest but was manhandled back into the living room before he got a chance. The others were there, already arming up. It was then that Castiel heard it: A soft voice in his head, and he knew that Michael was right outside.

He could not let anyone hurt the Winchester brothers, even the Prince of Heaven. Suddenly, Castiel was not in Bobby's living room anymore.

"Uh, where did Castiel go?" Sam suddenly asked, and the whole room went still. Those words chilled Dean to his core and he frantically looked around the room, knowing he would not have left out of his own free will.

"Come out, you coward son of a bitch!" Dean challenged whatever had stolen his angel, but he was met with nothing but open air. It was then that he saw the flash of lightning far too close to the house, and knew then where the angry angel was. Dean ran outside, forgetting about his clumsy drunkenness and slammed the front porch door open.

Before Dean even stopped to look at who was with Castiel, he stormed over to his lover and shoved him out of harm's way, ready to take his place in the fight if need be. Dean shoving him only resulted in Castiel shoving the hunter right back, until the two of them were lost in their own battle with one another. Dean fought Castiel fervently, but his angel was stronger despite their size difference. What Dean lacked in strength, however, he made up for with persistence and stubbornness.

Michael burst out laughing, and Dean stopped instantly when he heard the voice of the stranger, still holding Castiel back from smacking him. "Who the hell are you?" He turned to demand. "Talk quick, or I'll shoot." He let go of Castiel only long enough to pose with the colt.

"I'm Michael. I'm sure Zachariah has told you all about me, especially since he wants me to wear you around like an angel condom," he said nonchalantly, using Dean’s own phrases. "But see, Zachariah has it all wrong. Lucifer was once to me what Sam is to you. I cannot kill him. With Castiel's help, however… you can."

Dean was silent for a moment, taking it all in. "You can fuck yourself with your advice," Dean growled, even bolder with the alcohol flooding through his veins. All the pent up frustration and anger he was saving for the face-to-face interaction between him and Michael coming out in an explosion. "And you sure as Hell aren’t wearing me to the prom."

Michael sighed. "He does not listen very well, does he?" He asked Castiel.

"He is a little inebriated," Castiel told him, clearly not knowing if he should trust his brother or not. It was harder to read angels than it was to read humans. "But what are you doing here if not to try and convince Dean to say 'yes'?"

"I was curious as to what Dean Winchester’s perfect mate looked like," he smiled, eying Castiel's new body up and down. "I thought you would be a little less... male."

Dean took offense to that. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" He demanded, still not releasing his death grip on the gun, and taking an angry step towards the arch angel.

"It means that you are the only human on Earth that can say their soul mate was literally created just for them," Michael said with a smirk. "Castiel was the last angel created by God, and the only one created for a purpose other than serving our Father."

At first, Dean just continued to glare in silence, looking awkwardly over to the others to see their reactions and more than a little embarrassed to have it proclaimed out in the open like this. He did not look behind him at Castiel, not wanting to see his expression. He knew what it was like to have a destiny he could not fight, and he knew what it was like to know his entire existence was planned for something bigger than him.

"He was a lot more loyal to that son of a bitch than all the other angels I met. And your God repaid him by burning his wings and causing him to fall to Earth?" Dean growled.

"It was his choice. He could have chosen not to save you, to do as he was told and return safely to Heaven, but he did not," Michael shrugged, giving Dean one last smug look before looking upon Castiel. His expression instantly softened. "You did not fall, Brother. You evolved into what you were created to be. It is time you accept it."

Castiel stared, overwhelmed, and Dean looked upon his enemy suspiciously. "You didn't come here to give the happy couple your blessing, so what the hell do you want?" He demanded.

"I wanted to see how you two were bonding. I see now that that should not have worried," Michael told them. "I will be in touch."

With that, Dean blinked, and with the sound of wings, Michael was gone.

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

It was a lot to take in. Castiel had always felt different than the other angels. He had always been treated differently. He always felt misplaced and lost, and now he knew why. He slumped down on the porch steps behind Dean, one leg on each side of the hunter’s waist as he wrapped his arms around his human's shoulders and placed a kiss on the back of his neck.

Dean glared into the darkness as he felt comfort enfold him like wings. He wanted to lean back against his chest, but instead, he held his body still as if he did not even notice his lips, remembering the game of strip poker in the kitchen.

"I was just out-ed by a goddamn Archangel," Dean broke the silence with a growl.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked gently, not understanding why Dean was upset. He, on the other hand, had not felt this light hearted since he landed on Earth’s ground in this body. He did not fall, after all, and it was a tremendous relief to know that. He knew what humans meant now when they talked of spirits being lifted.

"Nothing." Dean gave up believing that Castiel would understand. He reached for the bottle next to him and took a big gulp, trying to get as drunk as possible. He was halfway there already.

Castiel hands slid up and down Dean's arms for a moment as if he could soothe the anger out of him. "Are you angry with me?" He asked softly.

Dean felt himself relax under Castiel's hands but he would not let his defenses down just yet. "Why don't you go back inside and dance naked on the table?" He asked sarcastically.

Castiel flinched back as if he had been slapped. He had not thought anything of it at the time, since Sam had far less clothing on than himself at the time. "Why don't you come show me how to dance instead?" He tried to coax the hunter into a better mood.

Dean snorted at the absurdity of that and took another sip of the bottle. He drank a lot these days, but he rarely got as wasted as he was now. He did not allow himself to lose control often. In his life, he could not afford it. But right now, he was pretty sure he was done caring about that. He shrugged off Castiel's hands and said nothing.

Castiel decided he did not like this side of Dean. He stood up and snatched the bottle out of Dean's hand, tipped it over, and letting the liquor splash onto the ground. Dean felt himself boil over with anger when his alcohol was wasted to the ground, but he refused to make a scene or even react at all. It was probably what Castiel wanted.

"Oh don't get self righteous with me," Dean cursed, glaring up at his lover. "Besides, I don't need it anymore."

"Good, because you have had enough," Castiel said, reaching down to pull Dean up by his shirt. "I am taking you to bed."

It was not often that someone told Dean what to do, at least, not the same way that Castiel did. Dean was so surprised by it that he actually did not protest, stumbling drunkenly along as he was pulled by his shirt past the room full of other people, but stopped when they were alone again in front of the stairs.

"I can decide on my own when I should go to bed," he told him childishly.

"Not anymore," Castiel dismissed, continuing to pull Dean up the stairs and into their bedroom. He pushed Dean onto the bed and bent down to the floor to unlace Dean's boots.

Dean all but collapsed onto the mattress, but when he felt Castiel taking off his shoes with somewhat of an unpracticed clumsiness, Dean tried to drunkenly wiggle his legs away. "Stop it," he warned, not used to being taken care of.

"Hush," Castiel chastised before finally getting the boots off his feet. He then reached for the buttons on Dean's jeans, knowing he would be more comfortable sleeping without them.

Dean immediately stopped fighting when he felt Castiel's hands unbuttoning him. His fidgeting body stilled. "Aren't you gonna buy me dinner first before you dive into my pants?" The anger was still there, but with it came a little teasing.

"No dinner," Castiel answered shortly before yanking down his jeans and reaching for Dean's shirt and pulling it over his head. He paused, looking down at Dean who was sprawled out on the bed, now in nothing but his boxers. "You are so beautiful," he told him.

It was funny how fast Castiel could turn Dean’s most stubborn bad moods around. He closed his eyes and smirked, knowing Castiel was watching him closely. "Now you're just trying to seduce me." He was slowly but surely forgiving Castiel.

Castiel crawled up Dean's body until they were eye level and kissed the tip of his nose. "I do not know how to seduce you."

Dean knew then that he could forget clinging to his anger. He took a deep, shaky breath and felt his drunken body respond. He was surprised, frankly, that he was even able to get it up after that bottle of whiskey. "Baby, you don't need to try," he smirked, his voice low and thick with need, and his hands coming to grab Castiel's hips. "All I need to do is look at you and I'm hard as a rock." He demonstrated by pressing Castiel's hips hard down onto his.

Castiel blushed when he felt what Dean was talking about. "I like it when you call me those silly names," he admitted softly.

Dean's hands travelled from Castiel's clothed hips to up his shirt, feeling his chest and his back where they travelled up and down his sensitive spine. "Yeah? I like it too," he teased, knowing all too well that Castiel was fully clothed and he was practically naked. "You need to strip for me to make up for that little stunt in the kitchen," he insisted.

"I upset you," Castiel said, finally starting to understand why. He sat back on his heels and pulled off his shirt. When he moved to take off his pants, however, he remembered he did not have boxers on like Dean did. In fact, he did not have anything. "I don't have any of these," he said, his hands skimming over Dean's waist band.

Dean took in a sharp intake of breath when Castiel so innocently confessed to not wearing underwear. He smirked devilishly and his hands came to the waist of his pants which hung loosely on him. "Good. I don't think you ever should. Take these off." He could have easily ripped the denim from him, but he wanted Castiel to do it himself.

Castiel swallowed hard but he slowly undid the jeans and slipped out of them and suddenly he felt very naked. It was something he never really felt before and he quickly pulled the sheet over his lap.

Dean took a deep breath and sighed with the overwhelmingly beautiful sight of a naked Castiel. He had only caught a glimpse of him before he scurried for shelter, but the image burned in his mind. "Good boy," he breathed in an attempt to encourage, and he shoved his own boxer briefs down until his cock bounced out from its confines and stood confidently in between them. One of Dean's hands slid under the covers and up Castiel's naked thigh.

Castiel’s eyes were automatically drawn to Dean's cock, and his breathing sped up when Dean's hands slid under the sheet. He licked his lips nervously, not really sure what to do next, so he tried to lay back and relax. His hands came up to brush along Dean's chest. "Michael said God made me for you… but I think you were made for me, too."

Dean smirked as Castiel's eyes uncontrollably watched his erection that was obvious in between them. Dean knew the angel was still not ready for sex, especially if he was hiding under the covers. Yet he could only hope that maybe the more Dean exposed himself, the quicker he could ease Castiel into a sexual relationship.

Dean thought about what Castiel said. It made sense, even through his drunken, lusty haze. "Well that goes without saying." He gazed into Castiel's eyes, getting lost in them again and not wanting to find his way out this time. "You know what this means, though, right? No more 'sex is blasphemous' from you. God wants us to have sex," he teased, and his hand ran slowly up and down Castiel's thigh, wanting to rip the sheet away from him.

Castiel fidgeted with the bed sheet nervously. "It's just… everything this body does is new to me, and even before that, I never took a mate like some of the other angels did…" He confessed. He was a virgin in the truest sense of the word.

Dean was surprised how much control he had even with all the alcohol in his system. He supposed it was because sex with Castiel would mean more than Dean was used to letting it. He was willing to wait to do it right, otherwise he feared Castiel would come to fear it even more if Dean rushed him into it. And then Dean would never get laid.

The hunter’s hands continued to stroke his thigh under the cover, wanting to allow them to stray and explore him further, but he knew he would have a panicky angel in his bed again. He laughed softly. "How the hell can angels have sex?" Maybe it was just one of those things Dean, a human all his life, would not understand. "I guarantee you that no matter how hot and heavy they get up in Heaven, it's not as good as sex here. You'll find out when you're ready," Dean smirked.

"With humans it is more physical. With angels I suppose you could say it is more mental," Castiel tried to explain something a human mind would have a hard time comprehending. He began to relax under Dean's soft touches and was starting to grow tired as a result. His eyelids already felt too heavy. He did not think he would ever get used to falling asleep. "We will mate when I'm ready," he agreed, sleepily repeating what Dean had said.

When Dean saw Castiel drifting off to sleep he frowned and knew he could not let it happen. He made a small noise of protest and slipped under the covers in order to get closer to Castiel. Momentarily forgetting that they were both completely naked, he shifted on top of him, their cocks brushing against one another. "Wake up," he insisted.

The sudden skin to skin contact woke Castiel quickly. He shifted underneath him, trying to find a more comfortable position, which just resulted in their hips grinding together and his face flushing.

"It's hot," Castiel whispered, because he still did not know how to explain what he was feeling.

Dean did not move away. Instead, he shifted so their cocks were not so closely aligned, afraid that his lover would have a panic attack right then and there. Castiel's arms came up to wrap around Dean's neck in response and he spread his legs automatically-not thinking about what that could mean- to make room for Dean as he felt the hunter’s lips on his neck and his hands smoothing over his thighs.

"This is different. Being naked and this close," Castiel whispered.

Dean left a mark on Castiel's clavicle and continued to trail wet kisses down his chest. When the angel's legs spread, Dean tried to regain the only inch of control that was keeping him from grinding down on him. "Different from what?" He whispered absent mindedly.

"From before when we… when we were together," Castiel answered awkwardly. His hands traveled up and down Dean's spine and let in a sharp intake of breath when Dean's stubble brushed up against his nipple.

Dean moaned in agreement and kissed him hard on the mouth, his tongue sweeping against his passionately. His lips then trailed up and down his jaw before they slid down to torture a nipple, thinking he may have found an ultra sensitive part of Castiel. "Is it too much? Being naked?" He breathed, hoping the answer would not stop him.

Castiel was panting now, his hand tangled in Dean's hair as he arched his back. "No… it is too much, but in a good way," he reassured, knowing he probably was not making very much sense. When it was simply not enough, he suddenly flipped them over until their positions were reversed and their cocks aligned in a delicious friction.

It was enough to convince Dean that his need was not one sided. It was in fact very, very mutual. A devious smirk returned to his face. He liked this game. "Oh, so you think you can be in charge?" He breathed, and within a blink of an eye, he grabbed his hips and threw Castiel back underneath him, holding his wrists firmly to the bed above his head. "I don't think so." Dean knew he felt the heated whisper against the shell of his ear.

"Why not?" Castiel asked innocently. He rolled his hips against Dean's to tease.

Dean let go of Castiel’s wrists to pry his legs open and thrusting his hips. "You're getting good at this," he moaned, and sweat broke out on his brow when the heat between them rose. "I guess I'm teaching you well?"

Castiel panted softly and tried to remember that he wanted on top. "Yes," he admitted, and then flipped them over again in one swift movement and claimed Dean in a deep, practiced kiss.

The hunter was more prepared this time when Castiel flipped him over. He let him, only because he was momentarily turned to mush at the sound of Castiel's moan. "I like those little noises you make," he admitted in between kisses. He wondered if this was one of Catiel's hyper streaks and decided that all of them should occur right here in a bed with him. Not willing to give up, he growled low in his throat before he tossed Castiel onto his back again. "Am I gonna have to tie my angel down?" He teased, rather liking the idea.

Dean used the need to hold Castiel down as an excuse to lie chest to chest with him, his hardness poking urgently against his angel’s hip. It was then that he realized the covers had fallen during their wrestling and Castiel was exposed to him for the first time. His eyes shamelessly gazed down at him. He wanted to look at him.

Castiel froze under Dean when he realized just how exposed he was now to him. He blushed when he saw that Dean was now looking at him. His fingers flexed in Dean's grip but he made no move to try and fight free. "Is that… do you like what you see?" He asked hesitantly, but he wanted to know the answer more than anything.

Dean took in a deep, shaky breath and could not pry his eyes away from him. He knew Castiel's heated words were not meant to excite and that Castiel probably honestly wanted to know. "I love what I see," Dean whispered honestly with an appeased grin. Every inch of Castiel was perfect, especially when he blushed right down to his hardened cock.

Dean was suddenly overcome with the desire to worship Castiel slowly, every newly discovered inch of him. He slowly let go of Castiel's imprisoned wrists with pleading eyes that asked him to lay still. "Let me," he whispered as his hands travelled down his chest to his hips and to the insides of his muscled thighs. Castiel remained as still as he could as those hands explored him, his own tightly gripping the pillow his head was resting on as he moaned softly.

Dean's hands continued to smooth over Castiel's toned muscles as his lips kissed every inch of his chest they could reach, but this foreplay was driving him crazy and his erection was becoming painful. He was not used to foreplay at all, and was deciding that he rather liked it, but only when he knew he was going to get it in the end. He felt like he could never be satisfied, like he could never stop wanting Castiel, even after they 'mated' as his angel described it. "Want me to teach you something?" He whispered suddenly.

Castiel’s was dazed from the kiss when Dean pulled away. "Okay. What do you want to teach me?" He asked.

Dean kissed Castiel again thoroughly, thrilling at his sweet, unique taste and his innocent curiosity. His hand shook with anticipation of what it was planning to do, and he brought the covers up over both of them as if that would prevent Castiel from becoming too overwhelmed and stopping it too quickly. His fingers slid down Castiel's body and wrapped gently around the base of his cock, touching him for the first time. He watched closely and intently for his reaction.

Even with the warning, Castiel jumped when Dean's hand wrapped around his arousal. He let out a surprised "Oh!" and his hips automatically thrust into Dean's hand. Dean grinned at his enthusiastic reaction and his own cock twitched but remained ignored. It was more than enough to watch his angel take his pleasure, to watch how every touch earned him a new noise that sent chills through his body like little shocks of lightning. Dean was proud of say he had been around the block a few times, but Castiel made him feel like he had never experienced it at all.

He distracted Castiel with another deep, penetrating kiss. "Is this okay?" He whispered huskily when he broke the kiss to breathe. "I want to make you cum again." He bit his lip softly before his hand gently but firmly slid up his lover's cock and back down to rest at the base.

Castiel nodded his head enthusiastically in agreement and whimpered. "Yes… please," he panted, not really knowing what he was begging for.

Dean settled his own hips between Castiel's legs, forcing them to open wider. The sight of Castiel spread out, blushed and hard beneath him, sent him reeling. "Mm, what do you want, baby?" He teased, unable to resist after the soft pleading. "This?" His hand demonstrated by sliding up and down his cock again, his thumb sliding over the tip.

"Yes, please, yes," Castiel panted, and his whole body seemed to be over sensitive to everything as if his whole world revolved around the feeling of Dean's hand wrapped around him.

Dean licked away a trail of sweat down Castiel's chest before his mouth found his and he kissed him deeply again, feeling his moans vibrate through his body. His hand had set a steady rhythm now, no longer trying to tease and explore but to work him. "Let it go, baby. Cum for me."

That did it. Castiel did not have very much self restraint when it came to sex anyway, so when Dean asked him to come, he could not hold back. He arched his back and came into Dean's hand with a moan and all the lights in the house flickered on and off.

Dean watched intently as the tidal wave of Castiel’s orgasm raked through his body and felt suddenly very sticky. He grinned down at his angel and continued to stroke his sensitive cock slowly, milking it of its cum. "That's my boy," he praised, his own cock still hard and needy in between them. His hand finally ceased its assault on his lover and he brought it up to his lips to taste Castiel on his palm.

Castiel’s sated eyes followed Dean's hand and widened when Dean licked Castiel's cum off of his fingers. He pulled Dean to him in a deep kiss, wanting to taste himself in his lover's mouth, and Dean melted into the salty kiss. Now half mad with lust, Dean’s own hardness was achingly painful as his sticky hand came to grab Castiel's and led it impatiently to his erection. He gave a pleading moan, begging for release.

Castiel soon realized that it was one thing to have this done to him, but quite another to reciprocate. His hand wrapped tentatively around Dean's cock and he stroked it in jerky movements, trying to imitate what Dean had done to him.

Dean felt his hesitation and his own hand came to wrap around Castiel's, guiding him to more steady and confident strokes. Just knowing it was Castiel's hand under his was enough to draw him to his peak. Castiel laid kisses on whatever part of Dean's skin was nearest to him. "I want you to orgasm and have your seed spill all over me," he told him.

It was amazing how just a few words could send Dean into fits of ecstasy. He thrust his hips into the tight heat of his wrist and let himself unravel, emptying out onto Castiel's torso, chest, and even shot as far as the corner of his mouth. "Fuck!" He moaned, and collapsed on top of Castiel in a gasping heap. For a moment, he blacked out, his body swallowed by the tidal wave of pleasure.

Castiel ran his free hand through Dean's sweaty hair as he came down from his high. His curiosity got the better of him and he brought his sticky hand to his mouth, his tongue peaking out to lick the cum off his fingers. Dean watched through hazy, half lidded eyes and the sight caused another chill to course through his body.

Castiel’s now clean hand wandered up and down Dean's spine in a gentling motion. A few minutes later, when he thought Dean was asleep, he whispered to him, "I have waited a millennium for you and now that I have you, I am never letting you go."

Yet Dean was not asleep. It shook him from his trance and he lifted his head to gaze down at his lover. He tried to put into words what he felt as gracefully as his angel had, but he was talentless in that department. Instead, he kissed Castiel slowly, lazily, tasting himself mingled on his tongue.

Castiel pulled away and looked deeply into Dean's green eyes, seeing the beautiful soul behind them. "I love you," he told him quietly.

Castiel's words hit Dean as hard as his orgasm and he was struck utterly speechless, something else he was not used to. For a moment he could only stare until his forehead came to rest on the pillow that supported his angel's head. He took in a deep breath.

"Fuck, Cas," he exhaled. It was not what he had meant to say. He had meant to tell him that what he felt went beyond any definition of the word love, but the thought scared him too much.

Even though Dean did not say it back, Castiel knew how he felt. "It is okay," he turned his head to whisper in Dean's hair. "I know."

Overwhelmed, Dean slid slowly off of Castiel as if it took too much effort. He laid flat on his back and was grateful for the darkness of the room to hide him. He was not used to feeling so exposed under Castiel's gaze as if he could not hide anything from him. He was used to being his own person, living inside his own head, but now Castiel had come and stolen a share of him and called it love.

Castiel let Dean go, letting him have a few minutes to himself, not expecting the detachment to be almost painful. In order not to bother Dean, he turned onto his side so his back was towards him. Lead me not into temptation, he repeated secretly in his own mind.

It only took a moment, however, for Dean to turn to face Castiel's back and lean in close to bless his tattoo with kisses. He kissed up and down his decorated spine, understanding now what it meant. Castiel was a bit startled, but quickly relaxed into the touches. He shifted when Dean kissed a spot between his shoulder blades and he felt energy starting to build there that he was sure he was imagining. He could not have wings anymore. He was merely feeling a phantom limb.

Dean slid the covers down to expose his angel’s naked body again and kissed every inch of his back down the curve of his ass. Castiel shivered, but did not protest. At some point, he turned onto his stomach to give Dean more access to his back and felt himself grow hard again.

Dean bit the soft flesh of his ass and chuckled softly as he slid back up the length of Castiel's body, laying his chest against his back. "Still hadn't had enough?" He teased, feeling his angel's arousal stirring again.

"For the sake of Bobby's lights, we should not. I would not be able to control myself again."

Dean softly bit Castiel's shoulder, thrilling at the taste of him between his teeth. "I don't want you to control yourself," he disagreed, and refused to stop his molesting and his lips continued down his spine. "Are we going to have to fuck in the dark from now on? Or will the windows break instead?" He teased. He was exhausted but still drunk, but as turned on as he was, he probably could not stand another mind blowing orgasm tonight.

"I don't know… perhaps. Yet, now that I am conscious of it happening, I can control it better," Castiel told Dean, and moaned as his lips continued to explore him. "Are you trying to test what little control I have?"

***

Dean had finally submitted to his body's demands for sleep with his chest against Castiel's back and an arm protectively swung over his chest. Due of the Hell that haunted him, the Hell that lay in wait for him to close his eyes, Dean had not laid down to rest willingly since he rose up from the ground. Yet he felt indescribably safe with Castiel as if his angel could drag him out of any place he was trapped in over and over again.

At least, that was what Dean thought. Trapped in the realism of a nightmare, his chest heaved heavily, sweat breaking out on his brow and his fists clenched the bed sheets as if he were desperate to cling to something tangible.

Somewhere in another dimension, Gabriel smiled to himself, now convinced his plan to protect Castiel would work.

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

It was not long before Castiel shot awake in a panic, his heart racing and body sweating. He knew right away that it must have been Dean's own screaming emotions that awoke him, because his lover seemed to be stuck in the throes of a nightmare.

"Dean," he whispered, kissing his furrowed, worried brow gently.

Castiel's soft attempt to wake Dean was lost on him as the hunter remained stuck in his nightmare, unable to pull himself out. It was real to him, so real that he actually felt the blood soaking his hands. The blood was not his. It was not even human. The blood was Castiel's. He could smell it and taste it and he could see the lifelessness in his angel’s eyes.

Dean’s chest heaved and his tears fell freely on sweat soaked pillows. Castiel sat up and looked down at him worriedly when he showed no signs of waking up. He did not know the full extent of his powers yet, but he figured it would not hurt to try.

Placing two fingers on Dean's brow, he was instantly pulled into his dream. He found Dean standing over Castiel’s dream form as it lay lifeless and bleeding on the ground. Dean's hands were covered in his blood. Castiel walked up to him and willed the false blood and body away with a simple flick of his hand.

"Dean, you're dreaming. You need to wake up."

It was the sudden disappearance of Castiel's body that robbed Dean of his last shred of hope. It was as if the only thing he had left of his angel had just been stolen from him, and he turned his head to find a demon in disguise as his lover saying something that Dean did not have the ears for.

"Dean, it was not real. You are dreaming," Castiel repeated, looking around. "And I do not think this dream came from your own subconscious." He felt Gabriel's influence all around him.

Dean had lost his grasp on sanity and was refusing to listen to anything the demon had to say. He knew he could not let his lover's body be stolen like this. He could not let this demon have him. He had died innocent. He was more of an angel than any angel he had ever met. He had died trying to save Dean, but it should have been the other way around. Yet he could not kill this demon. Not when he was looking at him through those familiar, deep blue eyes.

"Get out of him!" Dean screamed, but instead of lunging at the demon, he tore at himself. He screamed as he ripped at his own flesh.

Castiel was at Dean’s side in an instant and gripped his wrists to prevent him from hurting himself further. "Stop that," he chastised firmly, "I am not a demon. Dean, look at me."

Dean looked down, finding his wounds miraculously healed. He stared down at himself through a veil of tears and knew then that it was not real. At least, it was not real in the fact that Castiel had not really died and it had not been Dean's fault. Yet there was an authenticity to this that Dean could not wake from. It had all happened, here in his mind.

Dean finally looked at Castiel straight into his eyes. He still held his hands awkwardly as if they still were red with his lover's blood. "I want to go home now. Cas, take me home," he whispered.

Castiel sighed in relief when Dean came back to himself. "Close your eyes," he coaxed, pulling Dean into a hug. "And come back to me."

Dean's arms came strong and encompassing around Castiel, who was tangible and real, unlike the blood soaked corpse he had tried to bring back to life. He closed his eyes tight and tears overflowed from the pressure. When at last he finally opened his eyes and took a gasp for air as if he had held it under an ocean of water, he was still with Castiel in the bed they had fallen asleep in. The sheets still smelt of sex.

Dean dropped his face in Castiel's neck, too overwhelmed to speak.

"I got you," the angel whispered, hugging Dean tighter and kissing his neck. "I think that dream was Gabriel's doing. It had his signature all over it."

That was enough to pry Dean out of his hiding place nestled safely against Castiel's neck. "No," he choked out. "He wasn't there. I lost you... that was real," he tried to convince him, because he could still see Castiel's motionless body when he closed his eyes.

It was hard to see such a strong willed man such as Dean to be so shaken. "I am sure it felt real, but it was just a dream. I’m okay. I'm still right here."

Dean, still somewhat in a panic, shoved the covers away to look down at Castiel's bare chest where the knife had pierced him in his dream. He found only smooth, unmarred flesh. He dropped his head in relief, pressing an ear to Castiel’s heart to listen to its rhythm. It soothed him to the point where he could breathe easily again and feel foolish and vulnerable.

Castiel could hear the others in the house begin to wake. He still had to convince Dean that he was coming with them on this hunt, the hunt Dean had just dreamed about. His hands came to run through Dean's messy hair.

Dean was afraid to pull himself away from Castiel and could not shake the fear feeling that he could be taken away from him as fast as he was given to him. Dean concentrated on the heart beating into his ear, but it did not offer as much comfort as it should have. That heart beating with life reminded him of this new body's vulnerability and weakness. A stab to the heart could kill him, and God would not be there to save him. Dean would be just as helpless, and it would all be his fault.

"Dean, don't do that," Castiel said, pulling lightly at Dean's hair. He could feel his human’s turbulent emotions. "I can take care of myself and you. I was made for it, you don't have to worry."

Dean lifted his head to glare down at him. "Don't do that. Don't… read my mind. Ever heard of invasion of privacy?"

"I apologize. You were projecting," Castiel tried to explain, feeling guilty. He kissed Dean's lips lightly.

The truth was, Dean did not think Castiel's dive into his thoughts was invasive at all, as if he actually belonged there, but it was his own indifference to it that scared him. He actually wanted Castiel in his mind, and he must be going insane to want to allow it. "No, Cas, projecting would be me speaking. Using words and my vocal cords." Again, his voice was unconvincing. His lips were even less convincing when they kissed him back. "Promise me you'll stay here, so I have you to come home to."

Castiel’s hands gripped Dean's hips tightly. He knew how on edge Dean was, and starting a fight now would not end well. So instead, he said nothing, and instead pulled Dean back in for a kiss and hoped to distract him. Dean fell helplessly victim to it as he deepened the kiss. With hands on his naked waist, Dean flipped them over so Castiel was on top, never breaking the kiss in the process.

"Promise me," he whispered in between heated kisses.

Castiel groaned and sat up on his elbows so he could look down at him. "Please, don't make me stay here," he sighed, deciding to beg. He knew that if he was very insistent, Dean may not be able to refuse him. "I want to go with you. I need to be with you."

Dean shook his head and silenced any further pleading with another deep kiss. "You can be with me when I come back here to you." His hands tried to convince as well, travelling up and down his naked body. "Hopefully in a different... more physical way," he breathed, leaving little up to innuendo. He gave Castiel a smirk, just for appearance’s sake.

Castiel sighed and seemed to deflate on top of him. "Alright," he agreed, sounding heartbroken. He buried his face in Dean's neck as if to hide from the thought of Dean leaving.

"It will be okay," Dean tried to reassure, "And you're not going to starve yourself. Right?" He realized then that he did not think he could worry any less about his lover knowing he was safe with Bobby. He could harm himself. He was not any more prepared to be on his own than he was to fight.

"I will remember to consume food," Castiel promised, but then sniffed, feeling a slight, strange burning behind his eyes. "If I went with you, you would know if I ate," he tried.

Dean was unconvinced. "You don't need me to feed yourself. I'll leave you plenty of food. I'll even leave a big cake, so you can't resist," he tried to tease to lighten up both of their moods. He had a feeling that Castiel could feel his true emotions without even trying to invade his thoughts, completely effortlessly. "I'm going to give you a cell phone, and teach you how to use it, so you can hear my voice while I'm gone and I can check up on you." He kissed him deeply to silent any further protest.

***

The rest of the morning went by pretty quickly. Dean got Castiel a cell phone and taught him how to use it, even though he was sure it was all lost on his angel. Sam in turn stole Dean's phone and set it so that every time Castiel called, Hinder's “Lips of an Angel” went off. When Castiel was practicing and called Dean's phone, the only thing that caused Sam to stop laughing was Dean threatening to put Nair in his shampoo.

When the cars were finally packed later that day, the time Castiel had been dreading had finally come. He stood beside Bobby with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Dean throw the duffel bags into the trunk.

Dean looked back at the house to see Castiel standing idly, looking a lot like an abandoned puppy. He streamlined up the steps without any hesitation and his hands were suddenly firm on his angel's hips. He shoved him hard against the wall and covering his lips with his own. "Are you gonna be a good boy?" His voice was heated and seductive, and he kissed Castiel again passionately and deeply as if it were goodbye. He completely ignored his audience.

Castiel’s hands gripped Dean's shirt, and he did not let go even after the second kiss ended. He felt that strange prickling sensation behind his eyes again, but this time it was worse, and he felt his eyes tearing up. "Please let me go with you," he pleaded, looking up at Dean.

When Dean saw those big, blue, glossy eyes well up with tears, he frowned. "No, no... you're not supposed to do that," he tried to stop the flood, because it was not part of the plan. "That's not fair. Don't cry," he pleaded in a whisper.

"I can't help it," Castiel whispered back. Dean was about to leave, and there was no telling when he would see him again. He buried his face in Dean's neck. "Please," he tried to say, but it came out as a quiet sob.

Dean sighed deeply and brought Castiel's face out of its hiding against his neck. Well, that was a huge mistake if there ever was one. One look into those pleading, heartbroken oceans of blue and Dean melted into a puddle of weakness. "Of course you can, baby." He tried not to let it show. "You're killin' me."

"I won't get in the way. I won't be a burden to you. Please let me go," the angel continued to beg as he blinked away rebellious tears.

"Dean, he's just going to be a bundle of nerves if he stays here," Bobby interrupted.

Dean growled in frustration and let go of Castiel, distancing himself as if that would give him back his free will and strength to say “no” to those damn puppy eyes. "Goddammit, fine!" He threw his hands up in the air, giving up, and not the least bit happy about it. "You get off angel-duty. For now." He pointed angrily to Bobby as if it was his entire fault. It was much easier to blame the old guy in the wheelchair than the pretty, puppy-eyed angel. He turned his attention back to Castiel. "But only if you stop crying! I don't want to see that again." He growled angrily and turned to walk to the Impala.

Castiel nodded and tried to get his emotions under control. Bobby just rolled his eyes."Cas, there's an old pair of boots in my closet. Go get them and put them on. Can't have you chasing the devil barefooted," Bobby told him, and Castiel ran into the house to do as he was told as if he were scared Dean would change his mind and leave him behind.

Bobby wheeled down a ramp after Dean. "You boys be careful out there."

Dean furiously slammed the door to his Impala as he waited impatiently for Castiel to come back. "I'm not sure how easy that will be with an angel to babysit," he growled, because just the thought of worrying about killing Lucifer and keeping Castiel safe was terrifying. Castiel was meant to protect Dean, sure, but could Dean protect him?

"Give him a little credit. He pulled your ass outta Hell, after all," Bobby told him as Castiel ran back outside, a little clumsily in his boots.

***

Dean pulled up to the ghost town as if he was entering a memory, slowly as if something was going to jump out at the Impala. He stopped in the middle of the street, simply because there was no reason to obey traffic laws when they seemed to be the only people there. The only humans, at least.

Dean looked at the scene before in him with dread. The morning’s nightmare had been vivid, but only the terror of watching Castiel die had stuck out to him until now. Yet as he looked around, Dean began remembering all the lost details and knew instantly that this was a huge mistake.

"I've been here before." He looked around. "I dreamed about this."

"It was just a dream," Castiel tried to reassure as he looked around inquisitively. Sam got out of the car and Castiel followed suit, his eyes darting around and seeing what the others could not.

"What is it, Cas?" Sam asked when he noticed his odd behavior.

"Reapers… they are everywhere," he explained.

Dean got out of the car only because the others had. He looked around for the reapers but found nothing but open air. "Well, great. That's just great. I don't remember multiple reapers in my dream but I'm not surprised they're here, ‘cuz the next thing I remember is Lucifer stabbing you in the heart." He looked over at Castiel whose blue eyes were going wild over the vacant town. "I'm taking you back. Come on, Sam." He grabbed Castiel by the wrist and tried to get him to follow.

"Dean, we came all this way. This could our only chance to kill Lucifer," Sam said in a hushed tone. "And Castiel isn't going to get stabbed if we watch out for him."

"Lucifer has no interest in me. He does not even know me, so I very much doubt that he would put in the effort to kill me…" Castiel insisted, holding his ground.

Dean knew there was no winning this argument again. He turned to his angel who was still looking around for unseen answers, and Dean refused to admit that without him, they would not know about the reapers. "Fine. There are reapers. Plural. What does that mean, and where are all the people?"

"It is as though they are waiting on something," Castiel answered, following their gazes but seeing nothing. "I could investigate while you and Sam track down Lucifer," he suggested, eager to do something to help.

Dean glared, not liking the idea of splitting up one bit. "Aren't guardian angels supposed to stick with you?" He accused, not remembering this part of his dream, but knowing that it must have played a crucial part of what happened next.

"So you want me to go with you to track down Lucifer?" Castiel asked.

Dean clenched his jaw. "No. I don't want you anywhere near Lucifer.”

"Then it's settled," Sam tried to end the argument quickly. "Cas will check out what's going on with the reapers and we will find Lucifer," he said, handing Castiel his cell phone. "Don't lose that."

Castiel nodded. "I will be fine," he told them both confidently. "You be careful."

Dean grabbed Castiel tightly and kissed him, not caring that Sam was there to roll his eyes and turn his back to spare himself of the scene. He had a feeling sharing a hotel room with the newlyweds was going to be something he would regret deeply. He sighed loudly, loud enough for both the men to hear, but Dean ignored it.

"Don't get stabbed in the heart. Or I swear to God, Cas, I'm gonna find you and make you regret it," Dean growled against his lips, and his hands came to cup Castiel's rump. "You're not allowed to die until I get laid."

Castiel did not know what 'getting laid' meant until Dean grabbed his backside, and he blushed but did not pull away from him. He had a feeling he would have to get over Dean's 'hands on' technique in public. "I won't get stabbed," he promised.

"Ahem," Sam cleared his throat loudly, looking around for danger while Dean and his angel were obviously lost in their own world. "Again, Dean... this is reality. Not porn. We talked about this."

Dean gave his younger brother a look and pulled back from Castiel reluctantly. "Go make me proud," he teased, because if he did not, he would explode with emotion. Castiel nodded and walked towards the direction of the reapers.

"I think your angel has A.D.D. It probably has something to do with all that sugar you give him," Sam joked, trying to lighten the mood as Castiel disappeared around a corner of a building.

Dean did not feel so much like laughing. "No, he just gets really hyper sometimes. I guess... it's better to let him do his own thing," he tried to look away and forget. If he continued to worry, he would only endanger himself and Sam. "So if you were Satan, where would you be hiding?"

***

Castiel did not know what it was that drew him to the abandoned building. It was just like all the others on the street, but he found himself automatically walking up the stairs to the second floor. The funny feeling he had was not one of danger, at least, not until he found himself surrounded in a ring of holy fire.

Lucifer smiled as he trapped Castiel in a neat ring of fire. The flames lit up the angel’s face, and he looked at him through hazy, human eyes. Lucifer was amazed to find Castiel small in stature, but lean and agile and strikingly beautiful. For a moment, he only watched voyeuristically as the angel grew frantic.

"Hello, Little Brother." He stepped out of the shadows.

"Lucifer," Castiel sounded surprised after being recognized in his human body. He had been created long after Lucifer fell, and they had not known each other. "Don't call me that," Castiel glared. Lucifer was not his brother.

Lucifer laughed softly and watched Castiel in a way that made his prisoner squirm. Killing Castiel was never part of his plan, but separating him from his human was. "You're a terrible human. You walked right into my little trap here like a moth to a flame." He shook his head in disappointment, his chapped, broken lips cracked into a smile. "So this is Dean Winchester's mate, his angel manifested? His wet dream come to life?" Lucifer mused, walking slowly around the fire circle, observing all sides of him.

"His whore?"

Castiel knew he was not a good human. He did not need Lucifer to tell him that. But to call him a whore… "Do not call me that," Castiel snapped.

Lucifer smiled confidently and looked Castiel up and down, like a predator sizing up his prey. "You know, you're no better than me, Castiel. Falling… losing your innocence… your virtue and grace... and your virginity. And after you were such a good little soldier, after loving God unconditionally. We have so much in common." He smiled at Castiel affectionately. “And even now, you don't question God. You think you're here to protect Dean?" He laughed. "You're here to distract him. You are his main weakness now. His main vulnerability. You are his Achilles heel."

Castiel shifted on his feet, moving his weight from one side to another. "I don't have to explain my faith to you. You are the Father of Lies. You should just let me go."

Lucifer stepped closer until he felt the flames illuminate his own decaying vessel. "No, Little Brother, I couldn't let you do that. Get used to your cage. I myself was in one for a very, very long time." He sighed sadly. "And if you and your human defeats me, the world will need another fallen angel. You will take my place. I don’t think it will be hard for you at all," the devil chuckled.

That seemed to take Castiel off guard. "I was not created to take your place. I was made human to protect Dean," he insisted.

Lucifer watched the fear wash over Castiel's face. He was not very good at concealing his new human emotions. It was clearly not something the boy had learned yet. "You were planned, yes. But do you think God is behind that? The same God that is letting this apocalypse happen?" Lucifer smirked. "You are a pawn. Dean is strong, but he is weakened by you. He is weighted down. If you die, he dies. Thus, it's twice as easy to end him."

Castiel tried hard to keep his expression void of the emotion he felt boiling up inside of him. "Dean is stronger than you think.”

Lucifer shook his head sadly. "Before you came along, yes. Dean was strong. But it won't take much now to break him," he shrugged, and paced slowly, leisurely, as if he was suddenly bored with all this. "Now his heart is no longer locked and buried. It's alive and wandering around alone."

"If you touch one hair on his head I will tear you limb from limb," Castiel growled.

Lucifer smiled in amusement. "Oh, there's the fire in you. I knew you were hiding it beneath those innocent eyes. I can see why Dean likes you," he laughed, as if he were winning a game. He would like to think he was.

"Now, my brother, if you'll excuse me. I have other matters to attend to. Please, make yourself comfortable," Lucifer taunted.

"No, wait!" Castiel shouted. "Are you really planning on leaving me here?"

Lucifer turned back to look at Castiel as if he had expected it. "Yes," he laughed. "I think I am." Without further hesitation, he vanished.

Castiel stared at the empty space after Lucifer disappeared. He glared down at the fortress around him. Could the flames really contain him anymore if he was not a full angel? He reached out for the barrier and quickly pulled his hand back at the pain. Apparently, it could.

He looked around for another way to escape and hoped Dean and Sam were doing better than he was.

TBC…


	13. Chapter 13

It was getting closer to midnight and Lucifer needed to hurry things along with the ritual. He was almost finished burying the bodies of the townspeople he sacrificed in order to free the Horseman Death. It would not be long now…

Dean heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Castiel was not with Lucifer. The dream had not completely come true, he realized. Maybe it was not fate, after all. He turned to his brother’s angst-ridden face. It had been an unwritten law that Sam should be the one to shoot Lucifer, considering he was the 'one true vessel', as everyone liked to call him. And Dean wanted it to happen, even if they failed. He wanted to see the hate and defiance flash over his brother's face and he wanted to convince himself he would never say yes to the devil.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Dean whispered to him. Sam opened his mouth to reply.

"He's waiting for a distraction," Lucifer answered for him from felt like miles away. "Perhaps your half breed angel friend could have provided you with one... if he wasn't a bit tied up at the moment," he laughed, pausing his digging and turning to look right in the direction of their hiding spot. "Oh come on, did you really think I wouldn’t sense you the moment you waltzed into town? Not to mention the unique scent my fallen brother gives off," he chuckled, taking a deep appreciative breath as if remembering it. "He smells like a lightning storm in a rose garden, but of course you know that.”

The surge anger Dean felt was hard to contain then, but he refused to give Lucifer the reaction he expected. Castiel was alive, he knew that from his tone, which meant that the dream had already been proven to be false.

He had kicked fate in the ass, or what seemed like fate, so why couldn't he stop the apocalypse, too?

"And you smell like Godzilla's ass. What the hell are you doing here with all these people?" Dean growled, standing up from his hiding place, knowing it held no cover for them now.

"Oh, these people? Well you know how those Horsemen are with their sacrifices-" he could not even finish before Sam raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. Lucifer's body hit the ground with a thud, but after one breath of silence, the devil stirred alive with the same evil as if nothing had happened. The wound healed within seconds despite the vessel’s state of decay.

"Ouch!” He complained. “And where did you boys acquire that gun? There are only five things in the world that gun can’t kill… and I just happen to be one of them."

Dean watched helplessly as something fragile inside Sam snapped and took a few steps closer to his enemy. "You bastard! I will never say yes to you! I swear to God I will be the one to kill you!" He screamed.

"You keep building up that anger, Sam. I'm going to need it. But right now, I have a ritual to perform," Lucifer smiled, and with a flick of the wrist, he sent Sam and Dean flying away from him. Dean hit a tree and Sam landed on the roots beside him.

The second Dean's back collided with the jagged bark he was knocked unconscious, and blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Before his last conscious breath ended, however, he could have sworn he heard the familiar flutter of wings.

***

One broken pipe and Castiel had freed himself. The second he was no longer trapped, he closed his eyes and flew. The first time he had done this was at Bobby's when Michael showed up for a visit and Castiel had learned too much about himself. At the time, he had been purely driven by instinct, forgetting in that moment that he could no longer fly in his lame, human body. That was, of course, until it actually happened. He could not explain it and kept it to himself. He wondered if he would ever be able to do it again, or if it had ever really happened at all.

Now, he tried to reach a part of him again that was lost and concentrated on the idea of lightness and air and wind.

He appeared at Dean's side and instantly grabbed a hold of both brothers. A second later, they were back in the Impala, Sam at the wheel. "Drive, Sam," Castiel told him from the backseat as he pulled Dean's unconscious form closer to him.

Sam, though dazed, did not say much. When they had driven for hours, he finally pulled into a motel parking lot. "I'll get a room. Try and wake him," Sam suggested before getting out of the car.

Dean was lost in a dreamless void, and when he finally woke dazed and confused, he felt the pain in his head and back until finally the memories came flooding back to him. His eyes opened and were met with oceans of blue. He heaved a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay? What happened to you? Where's Sam?" He sat up and looked around. Well, Castiel certainly did not drive, so Sam had to be alive and safe. He had also driven his Impala. "He drove my car?"

"It was either him or me. Everyone is fine," he assured just as Sam headed back to the car with a motel key. He opened the door to the backseat and said, "Room eleven."

Dean saw that Sam was okay. Beaten up, but okay. He was not possessed by Lucifer, which really was the most important thing. He turned back to his angel beside him and laid a kiss on his lips. "What happened to you?"

Castiel did not kiss him back and stared at Dean with and unreadable expression. He thought again about what Lucifer had said. He was Dean's weakness, and Dean could not be weak to survive this war. "I apologize. I was detained."

Dean leaned in to try to coax him into another kiss. "How? Did he hurt you?" He asked, needing to know. "I shouldn't have let you go."

"He didn't hurt me. He just talked," he hastened to reassure, knowing that Dean blamed himself for things he had no control of. "Come on," he said, pulling Dean out of the car. "You need some rest."

Dean may not have known Castiel for very long, but he did not need to in order to pick up on something being off. He grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to face him. "Cas, tell me what's wrong." He was angry and frustrated and this was the last thing he needed on his plate right now.

One more night, Castiel decided. He would give Dean one more night before he left. "Nothing is wrong. I am just tired," he said, taking Dean's hand and leading him to the room they would share with Sam.

Dean was not at all convinced but he knew that being in the middle of the street was not going to bring the truth out of him. He allowed Castiel to walk him into the hotel room, avoiding the raised eyebrows at their joined hands from the clerk. Sam was already inside the room, but Dean grabbed Castiel gently around the waist and spun him around in the hallway. He gently and lovingly kissed him, as if trying to heal whatever was hurting him with himself.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered. He did not know why he was sorry but he felt like he was in the dog house for something.

Castiel reached up and cupped Dean's face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean," he told him, and lightly kissed his lips.

Dean finally relaxed. Encouraged, the hunter gently trapped the angel against the wall and kissed him harder, this time his tongue coming out to seek his. He knew that once they were in the hotel room with Sam, they would not be able to do this. "I don't want to let you go again," he confessed when he broke the kiss.

"I know," Castiel whispered, and pulled Dean in for a deeper kiss. Dean still knew instinctually that there was something left unsaid, something standing in between them. It was like his relationship with Sam all over again. Secrets kept them apart. Castiel was supposed to be different.

Dean clung to Castiel, his arms around his waist, laying his forehead on his shoulder and inhaling deeply. "It's going to be okay," Castiel whispered into his companion’s hair. "You and Sam will find a way to kill Lucifer," he said with full confidence.

Dean's eyes were closed as his heavy head leaned on his shoulder. "There's something you’re not telling me." He insisted. "Don't do this to me."

Castiel took a shaky breath. "Tomorrow… tomorrow I must leave you. I am a liability to you and to Sam. I realize that now. We... we cannot be together like this. I was made to protect you, but in order for me to do this, we cannot be together…"

Dean, appalled, threw himself from Castiel. "What?!" He shouted. He knew Castiel knew better, he just fucking knew it. "You're going to believe Lucifer's bullshit? Over me? Over God himself, who did the only good thing in giving you to me?!" He demanded.

Castiel shrunk back at Dean's harsh tone. He did not think he would ever get used to loud voices. No one raised their voice in heaven. They did not have to because a whisper was just as powerful.

"You are weaker with me," he explained. “I am a… a third wheel, as you humans call it.”

Dean's clenched his hands into fists and stood tall to intimidate. "Shut up, Cas, you know that's not true! And I'm sure as hell not going to let you wander off just because you think it would do me a favor! You're not going to come into my life and walk away just like that! That's called being an asshole!" He did not care that they were in the hallway or that Sam was most likely unable to tune this out. "You make me stronger and you know that."

Castiel shook his head in denial. "This is not your decision to make. It is mine."

That last statement, as soft spoken as it was, hit Dean harder than the tree had hours before. It was a few long moments before he could remember to speak. "Oh, like you really know how to make decisions. Millenniums of doing nothing but obeying... you don't know right from wrong. No wonder you're listening to someone like Lucifer. You can't think for yourself. You just let everyone push you around and manipulate you," he accused, hoping his words hurt him as much as he was hurt, but knowing that they could not possibly.

"I can think for myself," Castiel defended. "This is me doing so."

"No, Cas. This is you doing exactly what Lucifer wants you to do. This is you listening to the devil over your own... your own boyfriend." The word was awkward, and came out as such. Dean had stumbled over a quick way to describe their relationship without using Castiel's word 'mate', which made them sound like a bunch of animals.

Unable to punch him, Dean shoved Castiel roughly against the wall for good measure but it did not give him an inch of satisfaction. "Do you realize you are doing exactly what he hoped you would do!? He is the one trying to weaken me! I know you know better than this!"

Castiel felt a tendril of doubt, but pushed it out of his mind quickly. "You cannot see past this. Even now, this is not about you and me. This is about the end of the world, Dean. In the end, you have to be the one that defeats Lucifer and you cannot do that while you are worrying about me."

"So you think you can spend one more night in bed with me before you walk out?" He glared into Castiel's blue eyes and shoved him again. "Get the fuck out! Get away from me! Don't do me any fucking favors!"

Castiel grabbed Dean and switched their positions so he had him pinned against the wall. "It would not be a favor for you, but for me," he whispered against his lips.

Enraged, Dean shoved Castiel off him and backed him against the wall, this time knocking the human breath out of him. "You think you can drop this bomb on me and expect me to take you in one more night? I'm not doing you any fucking favors. I don't want a guardian angel if he's just going to take the devil's advice over mine!" He felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

"Please. Give me one more night," Castiel pleaded after he got his breath back. His hands curled around Dean's hips possessively even though he knew he had no right after hurting Dean like this. He wondered how many girls Dean would find in random bars after he left. He wondered if Dean would think of him at all.

Dean threw him to the ground when he felt the hands on his hips. "I don't know what I have to do to knock some sense into you! I let you come along on this little hunt, and this is how you repay me?!" He demanded.

Castiel told himself it was better this way. It was better that Dean hated him. He stood up quickly and slammed Dean against the wall as he had done to him earlier, mindful of his superior strength. "Yes, this is how I repay you. I'm very ungrateful. Does that anger you?" He taunted, pushing Dean again, hoping the other man would get so angry that he hit him.

Dean thrust Castiel against that same wall, knocking him so hard that the cheap, thin wall cracked. "You wouldn't last a second out there without me. I saw you after you were alone for only a week... you wouldn't last a goddamn second," he accused, and it was that very thought that perhaps scared him the most.

"I will be fine. Now that I know I can fly, I can find you anytime I need too." His hands shook as they reached to clutch at the hunter’s shirt as if he were the one leaving Castiel.

Dean’s tears flowed freely now, and although his pride and anger would not allow him to collapse into a sobbing heap. "That's not how it's supposed to work and you know it!" He could not stand it if Castiel decided to show up from now on only to save his life. He would not let him near him after he left. He was either going to be with him or not at all. "If you leave now, I don't want to see you again," he threatened, and shoved Castiel's hands off of his shirt.

Castiel watched Dean's face as if he were mesmerized by the tears. "You do not get to make all the decisions. When your life is threatened I will be here, whether you want me too or not. When this is over, we can be as we were meant to. But until then, I feel this is the only way to win this war."

Dean did not have the strength to fight him anymore and he blinked away tears. "Don't do this to me." He was begging shamelessly now. "I need you. We can't do it without you. I won't have anything to fight for anymore. I'll hate you for it and never take you back," he threatened.

Castiel closed his eyes. "You were doing fine without me before," he whispered against Dean's lips. That was when he thought of something. "I could make you forget," he suggested, his fingers already going to Dean's temple. "I could make you forget you ever met me and then it would not hurt anymore."

Dean realized what he meant and panicked. He shoved Castiel's temple bound fingers away. "You were given to me for a reason; it's fucking tattooed on your back! You're going to go against everything just because of something Lucifer said?" He was not going to let him walk out. He was going to convince him until he was blue in the face that he belonged exactly where he was.

"Above all else, I was meant to protect you… even if it means I cannot be with you to do so," Castiel told him stubbornly. "You cannot make me change my mind about this. Just let us have this last night together."

All resolve melted and Dean slumped heavily against Castiel. "Don't do this to me," he pleaded again. "I wouldn't have a reason to live anymore. I'd welcome the goddamn apocalypse if you walk out on me." To Dean, his world was already ending.

Castiel clenched his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around Dean. He needed to be strong. "You can do this without me, Dean. You are the stronger than you know. You have to think of Sam and Bobby and the rest of the world now. Being with me has shifted your priorities too much."

It all rested on Dean’s shoulders and it was too heavy a burden to bear. That was when he realized with dread that Castiel would be safe without him. It would protect him more to be away from him, it would shelter him from the fighting and the hunting and the one-on-one conversations with Lucifer. It would save him from this heavy burden that Dean needed to hold alone.

Despite all that, Dean continued to sob into Castiel's shoulder. When he lifted his head, Castiel attempted to kiss the tears away. The second he felt Castiel's lips, Dean shoved him harder against the wall and kissed him deeply, passionately, as if he was trying to claim him. His shaky hands slid clumsily up his shirt, needing to feel him, feel all of him, as if at any second he would disappear from his life forever.

Castiel moaned. When he felt Dean's hands sneak under his shirt, he pulled it off without a thought and his hands went to his lover’s chest. "Up," he ordered so he could get access to Dean's bare skin, and the hunter lifted his arms so Castiel could slip off his own shirt.

Dean was desperate for him. He was crazed with fear and lust and anger and betrayal all at once, but they needed to get out of this hallway. He remembered Sam was occupying the hotel room and knew where to go.

"My car," was all he managed to choke out.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

There was a sudden sound of wings flapping, and in a single, human blink, Dean found himself in a different, yet familiar place. The hunter was rock hard the instant his back collided with the smooth fabric of the Impala's backseat, and he looked around, dazed for a moment before quickly moving to lock his doors.

Castiel had promised him one more night, and there was no way he would get cheated out of that, too.

Castiel wasted no time before he pulled Dean to him and kissed a line down his neck, biting down into the soft flesh. Dean no longer cared if Castiel was ready for this or not. He knew that this was their only chance to have each other. The only thing he cared about in that moment was to have him, to finally have him, and to finally give him himself. Dean was going to make sure that his angel ached for him the same way the hunter already did every waking second of his existence.

Dean's head fell back and his eyes fluttered closed as Castiel kissed down his heaving chest. His hands fumbled clumsily with his own jeans, unzipping and shoving them down. His cock sprung up and smacked Castiel on the stomach before Dean shoved him roughly onto his back to reverse their positions. Impatiently, he tore at Castiel's jeans.

Castiel breath hitched as he helped pull his own pants down and wrap his legs around Dean's hips. Dean moaned loudly and looked around for the duffel bag he had not yet carried into the hotel. His hand blindly dived in to grab a bottle of lubricant, wasting no time before he soaked his fingers. He slid back on top of Castiel until they lay chest to chest and kissed him deeply.

"Open up for me." His voice was a little demanding against his lips as his slickened fingers slid up and down the cleft of Castiel's ass.

Castiel did not know what Dean was talking about until he felt his finger teasing his entrance. He gasped when the digit entered him and his legs slid off from around Dean's hips and down to the side. His body tensed with uncertainty but his trust overpowered his own reservations and his body slowly relaxed. He moaned when Dean's finger began to feel like less of an intrusion and more pleasurable.

"More," he panted, "Dean, I need more."

Dean continued to stretch him, adding a second finger, his patience almost non-existent. "I have to stretch you out for me… to make things easier," Dean whispered into his ear before dropping his lips to suck on his neck. He wanted to leave as many marks on him as possible tonight and he felt the scar on his arm ache with the thought.

"You're so tight..." He whispered, fantasizing, if only for a moment, that Castiel still belonged to him and was not going to leave him. He remembered something from his time with the siren and probed deeper inside his angel until he felt his prostate. "There you are," he breathed, and rubbed it with the tips of his fingers.

Castiel cried out when Dean found a spot inside of him that sent sparks throughout his entire body. "What is that?" He asked through heavy breathing.

Dean's cock twitched with excitement from the tiny yelp he earned from his lover. He bit Castiel’s neck over a bruise and his voice was rough and raw when he spoke. "Your prostate. It makes this feel good for you," he explained. He withdrew his fingers and lathered up his own cock with lube, letting his head roll back in pleasure before he slid back on top of Castiel and guided the tip of his cock to nudge his entrance. "You have to relax or I'll hurt you."

Castiel took a deep, relaxing breath as instructed. "You can't hurt me," he told him simply, "I was made for you."

That statement broke Dean's heart anew because nothing had ever made more sense to him before. Castiel’s body was meant as Dean’s counterpart and they were meant to fit together like puzzle pieces. With that thought, Dean grabbed Castiel's thighs and positioned them around his hips before he leaned over his lover and slid the tip of himself inside him. He moaned through clenched teeth as he impatiently thrust the rest of himself deeply inside, and when he closed his eyes and gasped towards the heavens, he saw stars.

"Fuck..." He breathed as the tight heat consumed him.

The feeling of being filled by Dean was overwhelming to Castiel. To be connected like this was reason enough to fall from such a height as Heaven. Dean nipped at his lips as he braced his palms flat against the interior of the car and pulled back only to thrust forward again, burying himself to the hilt of him.

"Okay?" Dean panted. When the Siren had taken him, he had been too deep into the spell to think anything of it, and he was surprised now to feel the easy acceptance of himself into Castiel's body as if he belonged there.

Castiel moaned as Dean thrust back into him. It was a bit painful, but the pleasure far outweighed any discomfort. If it meant Dean could be inside him, he would withstand anything. "Yes… Harder, Dean," he demanded.

Dean felt the electricity course through his body in waves as he took Castiel’s virginity with each hard, desperate thrust. "My little angel likes it hard?" He dropped his lips to his ear to whisper.

Castiel's nails scratched down Dean's back. "Only from you," he admitted softly.

Dean began a rougher rhythm and his shaky hand slid one of Castiel's legs over his shoulder. With his next thrust, he felt the head of his cock colliding in perfect ecstasy with his prostate. "You feel so good..." He growled.

It was all too much when Dean found that spot inside of him that made Castiel see Heaven. He felt the tension building up inside of him faster than he could control, until finally, he could take no more. Castiel cried out, and suddenly, the back seat of the impala was filled to capacity when he sprouted wings with feathers so black they tinted blue in the moonlight.

Instinctually, Dean covered his eyes as if in the beauty of it would burn them. When no pain came, his widened eyes frantically observed the sight as if at any second it would be taken away from him. "Cas... you- you-.... your wings!" Dean stated the obvious through stutters, and suddenly, nothing could have prevented him from slamming into his lover one more time before throwing his head back and emptying himself deep inside of his lover.

In the moment, Castiel could care less about the wings he thought he had lost, because when Dean came inside him, his own orgasm hit him hard and he struggled to keep his voice down. He did not think Dean would appreciate the windows being busted out in the impala. Instead, the street light that had been providing them with a little light blew out.

Tears stung Dean's eyes, and this time, he did not bother to brush them away. He was too overwhelmed with the beauty of the wings, the pleasure of the orgasm, and the feeling that at any second his mate will slip away from him. "You're beautiful..." He whispered. Panting heavily, his eyes still wide with shock, Dean tentatively reached out to stroke the long, black, outstretched feathers in awe.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably on his back. Even with his wings pulled up tight against his back, they were still squished. He shivered when Dean pet them, and fought back the urge to outstretch them. He quickly realized that his wings were an erogenous zone because his cock began to harden again and he moaned as he gripped Dean's hips. "Dean, get hard again," he pleaded.

Dean's hand continued to stroke Castiel's wings, still not believing his eyes. They were as black as Castiel's hair, which was messy from their lovemaking, and he was overcome once again by his beauty. Castiel’s words finally snapped him out of his daze, and he knotted his brows in confusion. "I... I only just came, Cas..." He moaned as Castiel moved on his sensitive cock. "You're just gonna have to make me hard again."

"How?" Castiel asked.

Dean clenched his teeth and his hands quickly grabbed his angel’s hips to stop him. He always thought he had the best stamina in the world, but Castiel's was almost immediate. "Most guys don't recover that quickly, Cas…" He explained, if only in his defense.

"Oh," Castiel said quietly, and flexed his wings experimentally.

Dean slid his hands over Castiel's restless wings again and felt their softness as well as their strength. That was enough to get Dean hardening again. He dropped his lips to whisper into his lover's ear. "Did I hurt you?"

Castiel groaned as he felt Dean expand inside of him. "I am fine, but this position is not comfortable with my wings…"

Dean slowly slid out of him, and Castiel whimpered as he was incomplete yet again. "I want you to ride me," the hunter whispered, and his cock twitched at the thought. He did not expect Castiel to know exactly what he meant and he knew that showing him would be better.

"Sit up." He gave Castiel’s rump a few soft, quick slaps to encourage him.

Castiel’s confused pout was killing Dean and he quickly moved to sit down in the middle of the backseat, grabbing his angel and bringing him back to him. As if he weighed nothing, he lifted him onto his lap with his legs straddling his hips. The wings could fill out the remainder of the backseat.

Dean attacked his lover's neck in a kiss as his hands groped his backside. "Good boy," he breathed as his fingers worked to massage him open again. They thrust against his prostate, feeling his own cum inside him and lubricating him thoroughly.

Castiel did better with positive reinforcement and he whimpered into Dean's neck. He began to automatically grind his erection into Dean's abs, seeking out the friction he needed. Now that his wings had more room, they shuttered with need, and Dean could not hold back any longer. He thrust his fingers against his prostate a few more times before removing them and shifting Castiel up so his cock could nudge against his entrance.

"Sit on my cock," he panted.

So this was what he was getting at, Castiel thought to himself. He glanced down between their bodies as if he was unsure as to how this would work and he braced his hands on Dean's shoulders as he sat down a little too fast for his body to adjust. He made a small, pained noise when he was fully seated and he could feel Dean deeper inside of him than ever before.

Dean's stilled immediately when he heard the pain in his lover’s voice. Once again, Castiel's virginity was Dean’s and Dean's only. No matter what happened next, no matter what tomorrow brought, they would both always know that. With that thought, the hunter grabbed the back of Castiel's head, tangling his fingers in his hair, and kissed him hard in an attempt to distract him from the inevitable pain. "Relax," he soothed against the shell of his ear, feeling himself throb with need inside of his lover.

Castiel moaned as he relaxed enough to allow Dean's cock to move even deeper inside him. Dean's hands explored Castiel's back, feeling the roots of his wings where they sprung from between his shoulder blades. One feather strayed, falling on Dean's abdomen, and he watched its graceful landing in awe. His hands met with his lover's hips again and moved them only slightly over his cock. "Still hurt?" He asked.

Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's and closed his eyes. "It's much better now," he told him honestly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Dean panted against his lover’s lips, not knowing what would make Castiel think that he was doing something wrong. Nothing about what they were doing was wrong. It was perfection: Coming together like this and fitting together sublimely. "God, no. No. You're doing everything right." He soothed, knowing how important praise was for his angel.

Castiel smiled at the praise and his fears of inadequacy disappeared quickly and he moaned as Dean’s hands on his hips forced him to move on his cock. He could not stop himself making little surprised noises as the tip of Dean's cock barely brushed against his prostate.

Those little noises he earned from his lover were enough to driving Dean crazy, and soon, the gentle movements were not enough. He gripped his hips tighter, lifted him, and slid him back down onto his cock. His mouth fell open in a moan against his lover's lips as he forced a steady rhythm and his own hips thrust upwards. "That's it, Baby..." He praised, knowing that a confident Castiel was a good thing.

Castiel got the hang of it very quickly as he lifted his own weight and dropped it back down into Dean's thrusts. Once again, he felt his orgasm fast approaching as he picked up the pace between them.

Dean let his hands fall from his hips when he felt Castiel's confidence growing and he moaned loudly through his heavy breathing. "Fuck me," he demanded, lying back leisurely against the seat, needing to watch Castiel ride him, his wings framing his body and fighting the urge to flap with ecstasy.

"I thought I was," Castiel asked in confusion, but did not stop his almost frantic pace.

Under different circumstances, Dean would have laughed at Castiel's innocence, but he was too overwhelmed by the beauty of him. Dean watched through heavy lidded, glazed eyes as Castiel rode him hard. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen: His broken little angel in the heat of something like this. Dean felt his eyes water again and his hands came to smooth over his lover's flat abdomen.

Castiel's breath hitched and he grabbed Dean's hand to bravely push it lower until it was over his cock. Dean wrapped his hand around him and stroked him in tune with every thrust. His lips sought his again in a fiery kiss and he tasted blood from where the angel bit down too hard.

Castiel’s orgasm built up fast and he moaned Dean's name into his mouth as he spilled his seed between them again.

Dean was powerless to stop his own orgasm when he felt Castiel clench around him. He watched as his angel’s wings tensing, fluttered, and shed onto Dean's body. He threw his head back and cried out loud enough to hurt his own ears as he thrust up into his lover once more before cumming deep inside of him. He collapsed against the backseat and his hands moved to caress every available inch of the angel and kiss him hard.

The kiss made Castiel grow hard again. He tangled his hands in Dean's hair as he deepened the kiss. "Your turn is next," he whispered against his lips.

"You'll have to fight me for it," Dean growled.

"That will not be a problem," Castiel said confidently as he lifted himself off of Dean.

Just when he thought the heat could not rise any higher in the car, Dean allowed himself to be thrown onto his back, and despite his tear stained face, he smirked up at his brave angel. It was so impossibly sexy to see Castiel like this that he almost let him have his way right then and there.

"You may have wings but I've got the muscles," Dean challenged breathlessly, and grabbed Castiel's arms to shove him onto his back in a display of dominance. Another feather landed on Dean's head and he blew it away.

Castiel let out a surprised 'Oomph' as his back hit the seat. "Muscle is not of import," he growled.

Dean was taken off guard with Castiel's sudden rebuttal and he found himself on his back again with hands trying to turn him over. He resisted and shoved Castiel away until his back was flat against the side of the car. "Where did you learn to do that?" He demanded.

Castiel paused in there wrestling and looked back at Dean, a bit startled. "It just felt natural… was I wrong?" He asked.

It had all been part of the game, or at least partially so, and Dean had not meant to surprise him. "No,” he whispered, his face softening. With his angel still pressed flat against the side door and wings splayed every which way space would allow them, Dean kissed his collarbone softly and trailed down until he reached his lover's hard cock. Holding his hips still, Dean took him into his mouth and sucked.

Castiel let out a surprised yelp as his cock was suddenly engulfed in the warm, wet heat of Dean's mouth. Suddenly, his fear of doing something wrong disappeared as his hands flew straight to Dean's hair.

Dean swallowed Castiel as deep as he could and moaned at the unique taste of him. One hand squeezed his balls as he slowly bobbed his head, but he soon let go of Castiel with a soft, audible pop and a slow, final lick up his shaft. Sitting up at level with his angel, he kissed him hard, allowing him to taste himself.

Castiel growled and pushed Dean away and attempted to throw him back on his back. The growl vibrated through Dean’s body as he fought him. He wrestled his arms free even as he lay on his back underneath him, but not without uttering a challenging growl of his own when their mouths were inches away.

Castiel smiled down at him and pinned his lover’s hands down beside his head while his other hand forced Dean's legs apart as his hips slipped between them. "I will make you mine now," he told him while one finger sought out his entrance.

Dean struggled weakly underneath Castiel just enough to show that he could break the hold if he really wanted to. Ultimately, however, he melted underneath him. "I thought I already was," he raised one eyebrow and spread his legs further apart.

Castiel stretched him slowly. "You are," he corrected himself. "You were mine the moment I pulled you from the Pit. Before then, even," he confessed.

Dean was surprised and impressed with Castiel’s confidence. For a brief moment of insanity, he thought that perhaps his angel was not as innocent as he claimed to be. He felt slight pain in his shoulder over his scar a wave of another heavy threat of tears and he knew he had to hold his emotion back. "You're a fast learner," he teased.

"I had a very good teacher," Castiel whispered as he placed kisses along Dean's collar bone. Castiel wanted to bring Dean off just like this, with just his fingers. Perhaps another time, if they got another time, he thought to himself. He pulled away and sat up just enough to stare into Dean's eyes, unintentionally reading his thoughts. "You know there has been no one but you."

Dean gripped Castiel by the shoulders and roughly pulled him closer to him again. "It has to stay that way. Do you understand me?" He demanded. The thought of Castiel leaving was bad enough, but the thought of someone else touching him was even more unbearable.

"I understand," Castiel nodded solemnly. He positioned his hips so that his cock brushed up against Dean's entrance teasingly.

Dean grabbed his lover's hips to pull him forward. "Do it now," he growled, the need raw in his voice. He wanted it to hurt because the pain would linger after Castiel was gone.

Castiel did not need any more encouragement than that and he pushed in slowly but steadily until he was all the way inside of Dean. He let out a low moan. The tightness around his cock was so overwhelming. "You feel so good,” he panted, staying still to let Dean adjust.

Dean exclaimed with the overwhelming feeling of being filled by his lover and the pain that came with it, but he relaxed instantly at the sound of his angel's voice and he yielded to his length. "Good?" Dean teased him gently, because this had to be even more overwhelming for Castiel.

Castiel moaned and mouthed at his lover’s neck. "It feels like coming home," he whispered as he tried to concentrate on not moving a muscle until Dean was ready.

Dean's eyes clenched closed when the tears became increasingly rebellious. Castiel was pouring salt in the wound. He had no right to say that and then leave him. "Don't say that to me," he growled.

Castiel kissed up Dean's neck and found his lips. "This is difficult for me too."

Dean's body tensed, especially around Castiel's cock, and tears streaked down his cheeks. Yet still, his mouth found his in a searing, passionate kiss that contradicted his next words. "Shut up," he snarled, "If it was even half as difficult for you, you wouldn't go."

Castiel licked the tears off Dean's face, and instead of answering with words, he pulled out and thrust back into him hard. Dean arched his back and cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain that made him forget he was supposed to be fighting, and instead, he projected all his angry energy into his passion. "That's it..." Dean encouraged, his hands hot against the small of his lover's back, and Castiel could no longer hold back as he pounded into him.

Dean’s hands tangled within Castiel's already messy black hair as the kiss intensified and Dean's hips met his. Each thrust struck violently with his prostate and sent flashes of electricity up his spine.

Castiel growled. He knew he was not going to last long at all with Dean's tightness surrounding him. He pulled all the way out. "Onto your stomach," he demanded.

Dean almost came just from hearing Castiel's demand. He thought about fighting him, making him earn it again, but he ached without him inside of him and he sat up shakily. "Mmmm... my angel is kinky?" He breathed against his lips, his hands caressing his lover's outstretched black wings that glimmered in the moonlight before he quickly flipped over onto his stomach, his ass propped up just slightly.

Castiel kissed down Dean's back, appreciating the newly exposed skin. "I do not know what kinky is," he mumbled. He lifted Dean's hips and entered him again hard. Dean could think of nothing then but his lover's cock inside of him, his hands hot on his hips, the sound of him breathing, and his wings rustling and stretching restlessly. He arched his back, spread his legs, and thrust backwards to meet him.

The hunter never thought he would be able to give himself like this to anyone. With the siren, he had been deep under his spell and could not say no to what they did. And although he had liked it, there was a part of him that hated feeling submissive. With Castiel, it was different. There was no need to pretend. He felt his orgasm fast approaching as his body grew taunt with it. "Cum inside of me..." Dean begged, needing to feel himself filled with him.

Castiel gasped Dean's name as he came deep inside of him and all but collapsed on top of him. Dean felt his sore muscles coated with his angel’s cum and he was helpless to stop his own peak. Not wanting to explode all over his impala's interior, he caught his seed in his palm. His orgasm was so intense that for a second he blacked out, dissolving into unconsciousness before he was awake again and panting.

Castiel kissed the back of Dean's neck and his shoulder blades. "You know I love you. I want you to remember that," he whispered.

Dean's peace was disrupted when he heard Castiel speak. He winced when he forcing his cock out of him and felt that loss equally as painfully. He sat up and glared at him hard.

"Don't fucking lie to me. I don't want to hear it."

"I would not lie," Castiel replied simply. "You just don't want me to say it because it makes you uncomfortable."

Dean snarled, grabbed Castiel by the shoulders, and shoved him hard against the backseat. "Now you're just changing the subject, and no, that isn't the case," he insisted, "You may not be lying, but you have no right to say it before you leave me forever." Tears stung his eyes again, sliding down his face.

Castiel let out a cry of pain when his wings hit the seat too hard. "It will not be forever," he said, reaching up to wipe the tears away. "Just until I am sure that being around you will not put you in any danger."

Dean did not believe him. He knew that if Castiel left, he would not have the strength to fight Lucifer anymore. He would give up. He would die, whether by his own hand or someone else's, and their reunion day would never come.

"Just shut the fuck up!" Dean shouted as he shook him again. "Listen to yourself! You're taking the devil's advice! Why would Lucifer put these crazy ideas in your head if you are going to try and help me kill him? He wanted you out of the way! He wanted me exposed and vulnerable and broken!"

"Exactly! That is why I will make you forget!" Castiel yelled back, and quickly realized what he had let slip out. Silence fell between them and the only sound was their twinned heavy breathing. Dean's hands slowly gripped into angry fists.

His voice was steady and dangerous as if one more wrong move would provoke him into throw punches. "I told you, Castiel. I don't want you fucking with my memory."

Castiel went completely still, but Dean's angry posture was not enough to convince him of anything, as frightening as it could be. He was just as stubborn as Dean was when he thought he was doing the right thing. "I know you don’t, but I am going to do it anyway," he whispered, lifting his chin defiantly.

Dean cried out angrily and violently threw Castiel onto his back, his wings fluttering in panic and having no choice but to surround Dean who was now on top of him. They formed protective, beautiful walls around him and he knew this would be the last time he ever really would feel safe again. Dean knew by now that angels were not made for compromise. He knew he would not be able to stop him. Yet, the memory of Castiel is all he would have left. With it, Dean would cease to live.

Instead of taking his fists to Castiel, Dean shifted to straddle him, their cocks aligning. A shaking hand came to wrap around both of them, stroking them slowly. "I won't let you." He breathed, but his voice was sunken with defeat.

Castiel groaned and bucked up into Dean's hand. "You will not have to 'let' me," he whispered. His hands came to grip Dean's hips, squeezing the bruises he had left from there earlier lovemaking.

Dean moaned and put all thoughts of preparation aside and attempted to throw Castiel onto his back. "I'm not done with you yet," he insisted.

Castiel stopped him. "You hurt yourself," he said.

Dean growled in frustration when Castiel prevented him from going further again. "It's okay. It feels good. You feel good," he pleaded, and attempted to get close to him again. When Castiel held him away a second time, tears fell from Dean’s eyes onto Castiel’s cheeks.

Castiel knew then that they should not have had sex, if only for the sake of both of their sanity. He should have just erased Dean's memory, made him sleep, and drop him off in the motel room with Sam. Now, he would have this to think about on cold, lonely night. It was too much to take.

“I love you,” Dean whispered to him for the first time.

Castiel pulled Dean even closer to him and buried his face in his neck. "This will not be good bye," he promised him.

"Don't leave me. It wasn't meant to happen and you know it," Dean begged against his lips.

"I will not leave you. I can protect you without you ever seeing me."

Dean shook his head, cupping his face in his hands and bringing his lips to his again. "I want to see you. I need to see you... I need to remember you," he cried. "If by some crazy miracle I kill Lucifer and life goes back to normal and you come back to me and explain what you've done... I will resent you for it."

Castiel felt hurt stab him in the chest. He knew it was true. Dean would resent him, but at least he would be alive. "I will just have to beg for your forgiveness, then."

Dean dropped his forehead to Castiel's shoulder and his hands caressed his wings. "What you are doing doesn't deserve my forgiveness. You can try to erase my memory, but it won't be long before I remember you. You're not easily forgotten." Castiel had left too large of an imprint on his heart to be erased completely.

Castiel shivered at Dean's touch. "I know I will have to earn your forgiveness," he said.

Dean gazed through tears at his lover's wings. They were softer than any birds, like the down of pillows, and so black they almost blended into the night.

"Dean," Castiel shook him from his daze. "Kiss me."

Dean did not waste time to be hesitant and his lips quickly collided with his. "Don't," he breathed, fearing that it would happen at any second. He grabbed Castiel's wrists and held them behind his back so he could not use them against him.

Castiel allowed it. "I have to. You will go to sleep and everything will be fine," he tried to reassure.

Dean continued to hold his hands away from him. It would have been kinky if he was not doing it for this reason. "And I'll wake up and fuck other people. Will that bother you?" He threatened, trying a different approach, knowing how jealous Castiel could be.

Castiel flinched at the thought, but he was unmovable. "Yes, but your safety is more important."

Dean shut him up quickly with another kiss. "I love you," he growled aggressively against his lips.

"I love you," Castiel agreed before he freed one of his hands out of Dean's to grasp. "Please forgive me," he pleaded before his fingers collided with his forehead.

Dean collapsed onto Castiel in a deep slumber. His body was completely slack and he was snoring softly and peacefully.

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Sam could not sleep that night.

He was not used to Dean being away from him this long. He was also not used to him having someone else to hang out with besides him. After a long day of hunting, Sam kind of liked knowing his brother was still with him, safe. Not that he did not trust his brother’s little angel to keep him safe, however. That was why he was here, after all. Still, old habits die hard.

Sam jumped and almost threw his laptop into the air when Castiel suddenly appeared in the room with a soft flutter of wings and his arms full of his brother. “Jesus!” Sam shouted.

Castiel, momentarily startled, looked around the room before he looked back at Sam. “Jesus is not here, Sam. It is only me.”

The hunter watched as Castiel dropped Dean down on the bed but did not sink down into the mattress with him. That, above all, was the strangest part. "Um... do I want to know?" Sam asked tentatively.

Castiel sighed heavily. "I erased his memory of me. He cannot win this war with me as a weakness. I can still protect him, but not when he knows I exist," he explained.

Sam stared open mouthed at the angel, not knowing what to say. Castiel's face was as serious as it always was. "Um... what?!" He looked down at his sleeping brother. "Why the hell did you do that, Cas!? Where will you go now?" He did not think he could carry this dark secret alone and he did not think it was fair of Castiel to ask it of him. Dean always knew when he was hiding something. "Everyone has weaknesses, Cas. I'm also Dean's weakness, as his little brother, but that doesn't mean we don't stick together!"

"Exactly my point. He does not need another weakness. And I will never be far and I can feel it if he gets into trouble. But he does not need me to be underfoot," Castiel shook his head. “Dean always thinks he has to take care of everyone he loves, and I would be his downfall somehow.”

Sam looked down at his unconscious brother and knew he may never see him happy again. When Dean came back from Hell, he was a changed man. There was a dark void inside of him that Sam could feel, but not understand. He had been so relieved when Castiel had come along to put some life back into him, only to now take it away again. "This will kill him," he stated simply. "This is a bad idea. Did you tell him any of this before you went ahead and did it?"

Castiel reached down to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. "He will be okay. And yes, I did tell him… he was very angry."

"I'm sure that's an understatement," he snorted, knowing that Dean must have fought like hell to convince him not to. "So are you gonna erase my memory too? I could tell him, you know. He deserves to know."

"If you tell him, it will not do much good, since he would not remember me anyway." He turned his imploring blue eyes back to Sam. "Please, Sam, let me do this my way."

Sam could not agree to anything, not now. He sighed and pushed away his laptop, giving up on research for tonight. "If you're leaving, leave now," was all he said. He moved to turn off the light and settled down in the bed.

Castiel nodded and took one last long look at Dean before he leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered before disappearing from the dingy hotel room with another swift flap of powerful wings.

***

Dean may have been sleeping peacefully, but Sam was restless all night. Sometimes, he worried for his brother as if he were the older one, especially after his dive into Hell and back. Most of all, he worried about how his worrying would cause Dean to ask questions. He knew he may not be able to hide the truth from him.

***

Dean stirred awake the next morning when the hotel alarm rang and he groaned in pain. He must have drunk a lot last night to have this kind of a hangover. His entire body hurt, including a certain part of him that should not be sore.

"Fuck, what the hell happened last night?" His voice was rough as he asked himself out loud.

Sam came out of the bathroom when he heard Dean's voice. "You came back to the room last night and just passed out," he shrugged. "What do you remember?"

“A whole lot of nothin’,” Dean grumbled. “But man, am I starving.”

***

Castiel was sitting on the roof of the motel when he felt Dean wake up and he had to suppress the urge to go to him immediately and beg for forgiveness. That would have to wait for another time, he thought to himself. He stretched out his newly discovered wings, charging them with the energy of the morning sun and exploring the new, tangible feel of them that was still very strange and foreign to him.

Meanwhile, Dean lay back in the bed with a satisfied smirk across his lips. Despite how sore he was, he felt good, like he had really scored with a hot chick. "I do know I got laid. And I know it was good," he chuckled.

Sam tried not to gag at the thought of his brother having sex with Castiel. He had figured, but to have it put so bluntly was another thing. "Dude! I don't want to hear that," he said, throwing Dean his duffel bag. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, we are already past check out time. We need to get back on the road and head to Bobby's."

Dean made no move to rise out of bed. His head was pounding, and he was too used to drinking every night to wake up with a headache like this. "It's kinda weird how I don't remember a thing, though. What bar was I at?" He asked, knowing that his brother would not have let him just walk off with just anyone.

"There's a bar a couple of blocks from here," Sam said with a shrug as he packed up his few possessions. "Come on, we need to get going."

Dean knew his brother must just be acting funny because he was frustrated that he did not get lucky last night, too. So brushing it off, Dean just sighed and gathered up his things. When they both got to the car, however, he glanced into the backseat to see a few long, black feathers thrown across the leather. He raised an eyebrow and opened the door to pick one up. Sam watched, and for a moment, he was just as confused as Dean. The more he thought about it, however, the more he was able to put two and two together.

Dean just passed the feathers up as something kinky and smirked, but instead of throwing them out the window, he slipped them into his bag.

***

Castiel continued to flex his wings and look over the edge he was standing on. He did not hear any being approach him before he was suddenly pulled back sharply from the edge and into another's arms. He instantly struggled, automatically assuming a demon had managed to sneak up on him.

Gabriel allowed his little brother to struggle until he felt the panic overwhelm him and he released. Castiel spun around and heaved a sigh of relief. Gabriel hoped it taught him a very good lesson not to stand on a rooftop and flap his wings around. He may as well be screaming ‘look at me!’ to every demon on the planet.

"What are you doing, standing that close to the edge like that?!" He demanded. "You're in plain view up here, I may as well have been a demon, and I may as well have pushed you off! I see your head is still in the clouds, even if you're below them now." The trickster’s face was serious, an expression he did not wear often. "And where's your mate? You look different without being attached to your not-so-better half."

Castiel stared down at the ground. "I made Dean forget about me so I would not be a weakness to him," he admitted softly.

Gabriel glared at him, his arms crossed over his chest. "Right after you lost one of the only virtues you had left- your virginity. I'm ashamed of you, little brother." Castiel had always been the baby of the family, so to speak. And Gabriel did not like to see him give it all away to a human.

"That is something I will never regret," Castiel disagreed.

Gabriel sighed and his face softened. "I guess I can’t really blame you, considering that has been your entire purpose since you were created, as fucked up as that is." He glanced up to the Heavens and hoped their father heard him loud and clear. But of course the asshole was not listening. "Which makes you even more of an idiot. This isn't the path you're supposed to be on. Neither of you can survive without the other, and it doesn't matter who remembers what. You've weakened him a lot more now, by leaving like this."

Castiel shook his head stubbornly. "I can still protect him, just not as his lover," he insisted. "I- I’ve met Lucifer."

Gabriel snickered. "So he planted these ideas into your impressionable mind? It disgusts me how you favor his advice over mine… over your own. I know what I've said before, and I’ll never like that Winchester kid, but you need to be with him now. I can't have you wandering around alone." Anything could happen to Castiel while Dean was not watching after him and giving him shelter and food and the basic essentials of human sustainment that Castiel was used to not thinking about.

"I can take care of myself," Castiel argued. "I am not a child to be coddled!"

"You are aiding the devil by doing this, Castiel,” Gabriel told him plainly.

Castiel was silent then, and for a few moments, he just stared at the ground. It was finally beginning to hit him. Had he played right into the devils hands? "You know... you know I would never..."

It was a relief for Gabriel to see Castiel finally coming to his senses. "I know, I know. You're heart was in the right place and all that crap. But you've changed fate in Lucifer's favor, just because he knew how to get to you. And now look what you have done... you've left your mate only days before you found him. And you've even scrambled his mind."

Castiel could not take it anymore. "Just shut up, Gabriel!" He yelled. "I have to go."

Gabriel snickered, but nothing about this situation was funny. "Go where? Your purpose is with Dean. I only wish our absent bastard of a father could come out of hiding to remind you,” he shook his head in despair. “If you need me... I'll be watching over you."

With a quick rustle of wings, he was gone.

Castiel ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. Standing alone on the rooftop, he knew Gabriel’s words made sense. He felt entirely without purpose for the first time in his existence, and he began to recognize the feeling of loneliness for what it was.

***

Dean leaned heavily against the doorframe to a bathroom in their motel room, intruding on Sam brushing his teeth. A black feather was absent mindedly in one of his hands. After he woke up this morning, he slipped it out from where he placed it under his pillow and looked at it as if it held answers.

"I've been having weird dreams lately. Really weird dreams," he stared at his brother as he told him.

Sam rinsed his mouth out and turned to look at Dean. The last couple of weeks had been hard on him. He hated keeping secrets from his brother, especially something like this. It did not help that every time they would go up against demons, they would taunt them about Dean's 'pet angel'. Luckily, it seemed that Dean thought they were talking about Anna.

Sam had tried to get a hold of Castiel to advise him to lay off the demon slaying for awhile, but he had not been able to get a hold of the angel. "About what?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I keep dreaming of this same guy. A little nerdy angel with black wings. I don't even know what angel wings look like- but I do in this dream. I think it's some sort of... omen," Dean tried.

Sam sighed deeply. He was tired of lying, or at least omitting the truth, which was all he had done the past couple of weeks. His brother was going to find out sooner or later. "Dean, I..." He began, but did not know how to continue. How could he explain something like this? It was not his place to tell him, anyway. It was Castiel's. "I- I just wouldn't worry about it."

Sam did not have to say another word for Dean to know he was hiding something. "Do you know something about it?" He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Do you know where this came from?" He held the long black feather up. "This was in my dream, except it was attached to the angel. I've had dreams about him every night for a month now, but they feel more like deja vu than anything…" He absent mindedly stroked the feather. "I know him, don't I?"

"Dean, I…" Sam began again, and when he looked up at Dean then, he knew he could not hold back any longer. "Yeah, I know him. And you do too," he said in one breath. "Castiel. His name is Castiel."

Dean stared disbelieving at Sam. He had not expected it so bluntly. In his dreams, he had frequently called him ‘Cas’. Dean swallowed nervously. "Then why don't I remember him?" He challenged.

"Castiel thought it would be safer for you if he erased your memories of him," Sam admitted.

Dean gave Sam a strange, confused look. "Um... okay. Why?"

"It's… it's a bit complicated, Dean," Sam said, biting his lip. "Do you want me to call him? I think you two should talk about this. I don't really want to get in the middle of it."

Dean was starting to get pissed. "What, this dude erased my memory and you want to bring him over to chat? I can't believe you let him do this. And you kept this from me. Who's side are you on, Sammy?!" He growled.

Sam held his hands up in defense. "I know this is weird, but Cas can be trusted. He's my friend and your… um, friend, too. Call Bobby if you don't believe me. Cas has been popping in at his place every couple of days to check in, apparently."

Dean's jaw dropped. "Bobby is in on this, too?!" He threw his hands in the air, one still clutching the black feather. "Forget it- if you're not gonna tell me the truth then I guess we can't trust each other."

After the whole Ruby thing, Sam knew he was on a thin line already. "Dean, don't be like that. I just don't know if it's my place to tell you everything. Just give me a second and I'll get Cas here, okay?”

Dean was through with this. He paced angrily, his temper getting the best of him. He had been very off balance lately. His mind was in a dark place and still halfway trapped in Hell. He felt incomplete, like his soul had not died, but was left somewhere hidden from him. "Oh, so he'll come flying down here in a second flat if only you asked him to? Then why erase my memory?" He demanded.

"No, I would have to tell him something happened to you to get him to meet me," Sam shook his head.

"Fine. Bring him here, so I can kick his pretty boy ass.” His hands balled into fists to show that he was not kidding.

"You should hide in the bathroom because if he sees you are fine, he'll bolt," Sam explained, getting out his cell phone and dialing Castiel's phone number. Dean rolled his eyes but contained his anger just long enough to slip into the bathroom and wait.

Castiel actually picked up, which surprised Sam. "What do you want, Samuel?" He heard the familiar voice ask impatiently.

"I need you to meet me at the Motel 6 in Laurens, South Dakota, room 102. Something is wrong with Dean," Sam hurried to say, and there was a long moment of silence at the other end of the line.

“Cas?”

"Nothing feels wrong," Castiel stated skeptically.

"Just hurry-" Sam began, but yelped when Castiel suddenly appeared in front of him. Sam gave him an odd look. "Cas, are you stoned?"

"I do not have any stones… where is Dean?" He looked around the room as if he expected to find him bleeding on the floor.

Dean flew out of the bathroom, identified the angel right away, and charging at him fast. He threw him against the wall. "Who are you to fuck with my head!?" He demanded. "And... why are you wearing my clothes!?"

Castiel glared over at Sam who only seemed to shrink away. Sam had to know how bad a liar Castiel was. The fallen angel still did not even know how to lie. "Let me go," Castiel told him, trying to sound as demanding as he could.

Something about being this close to Castiel stirred something deep inside of Dean and he remembered the strange dreams vividly. It only made him angrier. He let go of Castiel only so he could reach for a black feather and shove it into his face. "Does this belong to you?" He accused. "Why did you erase my memory? Tell me one good reason before I snap your neck!"

"You would not hurt me, Dean," Castiel said softly, and he raised one hand to cup Dean's face.

The second Dean felt the intimate touch; however, he pulled away and stared at him in confusion. It was then that he noticed something else. "Are you high?!" He looked the angel up and down.

"No," Castiel answered. "I'm on the ground. Why are you and Sam asking me these strange questions?"

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration. "High! Stoned! On drugs!" He shouted out different ways to say the same thing, because one of them had to connect in his brain. His hair was a mess; his clothes... or rather, Dean's clothes that he was wearing... were worn and shabby. His eyes were dilated and his hands were shaky.

"Oh, yes, I took drugs. Lots and lots of pills," Castiel explained, and Sam groaned.

Dean snorted at that. He looked at his brother as if he were crazy. "And you trust him? Why not take Sam's memory... and Bobby's? Why just mine?!"

Sam knew his brother, and he knew he had to do something before he just started throwing punches. "Dean, you need to calm down. He can be trusted. He's just new at the whole 'human' thing…" He sighed.

It was then that Dean realized he really could not trust Sam anymore than he could trust this drugged up, pill popping angel. Sam and Dean used to share everything. That was how they survived. They used to not hold big dark secrets from each other, but now, more and more were resurfacing every day. "Fuck this," he growled. He needed to clear his head before he did something violent. He walked out of the motel and sat down heavily on a bench outside.

"Why did you do that?" Castiel accused Sam as soon as Dean was out the door.

"Because this isn't working and it's hurting both of you!" Sam yelled. "This is killing you, Cas, and I can't lie to him anymore!"

The window directly above Dean was open, and he heard every word. But as much as he listened, he still was not any closer to the truth. He looked around to make sure he was not drawing any attention, human or otherwise, before he tentatively held the feather to his nose and inhaled.

The memories hit him then like a tidal wave: Memories of them in the backseat of his car, of kissing and feeling and naked skin and wings that stretched to fill the vehicle to capacity. A rain of black feathers down on him, the taste of his skin, the feeling of him inside and out.

Gasping, he sat up and stared into space, trying to let what had just happened sink in.

Meanwhile, Castiel sat down on one of the motel beds with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. He felt Sam sit down beside him, and after a few moments of silence, he felt Sam's large hand rest on his shoulder. "You know I'm right. Take the voodoo off of him," Sam said quietly.

Castiel just shook his head and mumbled into his hands. "It has to wear off on its own."

"You can help him wear it off. He's already getting it back slowly. He told me he dreams of you every night," he explained. "He's been terrible lately. It's like he's given up. He doesn't want to get up out of bed, not even for a beer. I think he thinks it's Hell getting to him- but I know it's because you left him. Subconsciously, you're still there."

Castiel sighed and dropped his hands to stare at the floor. "The more he sees me, the faster it would wear off," he agreed.

"Good. You can start with that. Dean is stubborn and angry but he‘ll never stopped loving you," Sam told him, because he was at least sure of that. "Not even after all those girls he's been with since you left... it's like he's trying to find something in them he isn't finding."

Castiel automatically tensed. He should have known, of course. It was not like Dean could remember to be faithful, but still it hurt. "Girls?"

Sam sighed, knowing he had just opened a whole new can of worms. "Yeah, Cas. No one special. Just the usual barmaids he picks up. I can tell he's not really into them..." He tried to explain before deciding to change the subject to one that was more important. "But really, Cas... you aren’t taking good care of yourself. You don't need to be taking pills. How are you getting them?"

"Different places," Castiel shrugged, not wanting to talk about his new addiction. "And I am fine."

Sam shook his head. "You are not fine, Cas, neither of you are. You haven't been sleeping or eating, I can tell. And how the hell are you managing to fight demons while stoned?" He knew that one day it would be too much and Castiel wouldn't have the strength to fight anymore.

"Fighting them is in my nature, it's as easy as breathing," he told Sam.

"It won't be so easy when you're too drugged up to raise a fist," Sam sighed. "You're not making this any better by killing yourself with pills and fighting demons... Dean isn't going to like it when he remembers who you are."

"Well, I'm not too pleased with the fact that he has been copulating with every waitress he meets, so I think we can call it even," Castiel said irritably. He cannot remember the last time he ate, and he did sleep, or at least he did three nights ago when he passed out during a trip to Bobby's. The drugs helped him keep going, and that is what he needed. He hated sleeping without Dean's warmth beside him.

"Can you really blame him? I mean, it's not like he remembers you. Of course he's gonna be his usual man-whore self without you."

Castiel let out a weary sigh. "I will stay," he decided, even though he knew Dean would prefer him not too. Being with Dean while he was angry with him would be just as terrible as living without him.

As if on cue, Dean came storming in through the door then, his eyes centered on Castiel. "I want to talk to the angel. Alone," he demanded. Castiel took in Dean's obvious agitated state and glanced nervously at Sam. Sam shrugged and got up to leave. Castiel eyed Dean warily and remained standing in case the hunter decided to get physical again, but Dean just kept the distance and glared angrily at him from far away. Now that they were alone together, he was not so sure of anything.

"You and I... used to fuck." It was not a question. He watched for Castiel's reaction, knowing that would give him the answer he needed. Castiel shook his head in denial but he could not meet Dean's eyes. He could not force himself to voice the lie.

Dean’s glare was steady and serious as he took a few brave steps closer. "Don't try to deny it. I remember it now. And I don't know why I trusted you before you fucked with my mind.”

"I told you what I was going to do before I did it. It was the only way to keep you safe," Castiel insisted before he finally looked up at Dean. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I may have been mistaken."

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, and I'm sure I was happy to oblige," he snapped. He did not expect the angel to bring this much emotion from him. There was something about him that sparked the passion he thought was long gone. "I'd say it was one hell of a mistake."

"There is nothing I can say or do to make this up to you, but you have to know I thought I was doing the right thing. I could not stand the thought of you being hurt because of me," Castiel told Dean gently. He took a few steps of his own closer to him. "Being away from you has been Hell for me."

Dean almost jumped back when the angel was suddenly right in front of him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him almost as if his aura was reaching out to touch him. There was something hidden in his voice that startled him and made him realize something else. "We were… more than fucking?" His voice was still heavy with anger and resentment.

Castiel cringed at that word. "I… we didn't do that until the night before I took your memory away."

Dean was finding it harder to look Castiel steadily in the eyes. "Oh," he stated plainly.

Castiel reached out, his hand automatically seeking Dean's shoulder and the mark he had left there. "The more I'm around the faster your memory will come back to you," he assured.

The second the angel's hand formed perfectly to the mysterious scar on his shoulder, however, Dean felt an electric bolt through his body and a wave of new memories overwhelming him. They came too fast for him to recognize. "Shit!" He shouted, and jumped back away from the angel.

Hell. A dark, cold, cruel Hell where he was trapped. It was something Dean would never forget no matter what creature tried to steal away his memory. Yet now, he remembered a light in that darkness, flickering as if it would burn out or be swallowed by the evil and ruin around him. But instead, it gripped him tight and raised him out. It carried him up to breathe.

Castiel watched Dean with his head cocked curiously to the side. "Some memories will come back faster than others," he explained. "The closer we are physically, the more you will remember."

Dean barely heard what Castiel said as he backed away until his back collided with the wall and he sank down to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest that heaved heavily. Hell was suddenly all too real in his mind, all too fresh and all too sudden, and the panic attack was overwhelming. He clenched his teary eyes shut and grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he fought to keep breathing.

"Dean?" Castiel asked worriedly. He followed him to the floor, but was unsure. "Would you like me to get Sam?"

Dean shook his head frantically, because the last thing he wanted right now was his brother to see him like this. He worked so hard to hide this damaged part of him from his brother. "No," he managed to speak, but he choked on the word, as simple as it was.

Unable to hold back, Castiel reached out to run his fingers gently through Dean's hair. Without realizing it, Dean melted under the strokes. He could vaguely remember something similar to this happening one night after a nightmare. He could almost remember finding comfort in a body near him, but the memory was still too closed off.

Castiel scooted closer. "I will just have to earn your trust," he whispered.

Dean was still shaking, his face still hidden in his hands. Even with his eyes closed, he felt the angel's closeness to him as if it were a blanket of comfort draped over him. "You pulled me out of Hell,” he managed to whisper, realizing it all too suddenly.

"Yes," Castiel said simply. "There's...a lot more, too, but I think you should remember it on your own," he said, and he could not hold back any longer and he tried to pull Dean closer to him. The hunter passively surrendered as if his entire body was deboned and he could only melt. He leaned on Castiel heavily, still not having the courage to open his eyes. He did not have the energy to fight him or even argue any more.

"I have not done a very good job at protecting you," Castiel admitted, tucking Dean's head up under his chin. "I will remedy that immediately."

Dean weakly attempted to compose himself as he sat back against the wall. "Are you my guardian angel or something?" He looked skeptically into blue eyes.

"Something like that," Castiel shrugged, standing up and offering Dean a hand. "You and Sam should get some sleep. I will come back in the morning. "

Dean transferred his skeptical stare to Castiel's offered hand, but after a moment, he sighed and took it. He tangled his fingers in the angel's until they formed a web, and he did not let go even after he was standing. When Castiel moved to walk away, Dean's hand remained firm in his.

"Where are you going?"

Castiel turned back to Dean. "I was tracking down a demon nest when Sam contacted me. I need to go wipe them out," he explained. As long as he was fighting, he could stay awake. Sleep scaring him now more than anything.

Dean shifted on his feet, obviously conflicted. "Something... something is telling me that's a bad idea. Something's telling me you need to be here."

Castiel did not want to let Dean down again, but he had been tracking this group of demons for a couple of days and he was finally closing in on them. This could be his only chance. "It will be alright and I will be back before you even wake," he reassured, but he could not make himself pull his hand away.

Dean glared at Castiel. "If there is any way to make it up to me... this isn't it.”

Castiel looked down at the floor, feeling thoroughly chastised. He nodded his head. "I'll just be over here, then," he agreed, nodding to a chair in the corner of the room. Perhaps he could sneak out when Dean was asleep and the other man would never have to know.

Dean let go of Castiel's hand hesitantly and looked over at the chair. He would just be sitting there? Were all angels that boring? Before he could say anything, however, there was a knock at the door and Sam tentatively dipped his head inside the room. "Um, I'm really tired. We should all get to sleep." He noticed that Castiel was still there and he did not want to open his mouth to question it. He was afraid that it would give the angel an excuse to flee.

Castiel was silent as he took a seat in the chair and watched as Sam and Dean began their nightly rituals. Dean looked over at the angel whose eyes were still dilated and hair still a tussled mess. "You're not gonna clean yourself up? You look like Hell, you should shower and change." That wasn't exactly true. The angel looked delicious sitting like that, all wide-eyed and sex-haired. But Dean pushed that thought out of his mind as quickly as it came.

Castiel looked down at himself and shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at Dean's scrutiny. He did not have any other clothes and he did not want to shower here with Dean and Sam. So far, he had taken his showers at Bobby's, and was only there long enough to get clean and get out. "I'm fine," he said, hoping Dean would drop the subject.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped forward to reach into Castiel's pocket and steal a rattling bottle of pills from him. By the way it sounded when he picked it up, he could tell Castiel's stash was low. "You are far from fine. I started the fucking apocalypse, but I still take showers daily and change my clothes. What if I give you new ones?"

Castiel could feel Dean's frustration radiating off of him, so he held back from snatching the pills back. "Okay, If that's what you want," he muttered quietly as he shrugged off the coat Bobby had given him a few weeks ago.

Dean rummaged through his bag to bring out a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt that had shrunken over the years. "They will be big on you, especially because you're starving yourself." He threw the articles of clothing his way and turned towards his own bed, sinking down on the cheap, overused mattress and staring up at the plastered ceiling.

Castiel frowned but went into the bathroom and shut the door tightly behind him. Ten minutes later, he was back out with the sweats and t-shirt on and his other clothes curled tightly into a ball. Sam and Dean had the lights low and it looked as if both men were already asleep.

Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel sitting on the chair. He looked as though he truly had not slept in days. The meds were probably keeping him from it, no doubt. Dean’s own tired eyes narrowed down on the angel's. "Are you not gonna sleep either? I thought you were half human or something."

"I just don't need a lot of sleep," Castiel answered shortly.

Dean groaned. "Fine, have it your way. Fucking stubborn angels. I don't know why I try."

Sam turned over on his side and scooted over to one side of his bed. "Come on, Cas. You won't sleep if you are sitting up," he said, patting the bed beside him. The angel thought nothing about climbing into bed beside Sam, and with a sigh, he did. "Now close your eyes and relax," Sam whispered, pulling the comforter up over Castiel and tucking him in like he was a child who did not know how to do it himself.

Dean jumped out of his bed and threw the covers off of Castiel. "What are you doing!?" He demanded, even if he did not know where this jealousy had surfaced so unexpectedly from. "Uh, I mean… what, you're gonna baby him?!" He accused, trying to cover it up.

Sam closed his eyes and counted to ten, something he often did when he lost patience with his big brother and his mood swings. Castiel was now sitting up, eyes wide and worried. "Dean, Castiel has only been human for a couple of months. He doesn't understand a lot of things..." Sam explained softly. "And you need to keep your voice down before you get us thrown out of this dump."

That only enraged Dean more. "Don't tell me to keep my voice down, Sammy! I'm not sure I trust you either anymore! You kept this from me, you trusted some angel over the only family you have left!"

Sam groaned and put a pillow in front of his face, not wanting to hear this anymore. "Cas, go sleep in Dean's bed, because that is what the problem really is," he mumbled.

Castiel got up slowly as if he were trying not to startle Dean. "I'll sleep in the chair.”

Giving his brother one last angry glare, Dean turned to lay back down on his own cold, empty bed.

TBC…


	16. Chapter 16

If there is one thing that really churns his stomach, it is the stench of Hell. The air down there is not oxygenated, but is thickened and heavy with the scent of blood and sweat and sickness and it suffocates. No matter how much time you spend there, if there even is such a thing as time, you cannot ever cleanse the smell from inside your nose.

It was in this dream that the smell of Hell filled his nostrils again. It was ironic how Dean always dreamt not of himself being tortured, but of himself torturing. He dreamt of him liking it. It was the only way to survive down there and the only way to distract himself from his own pain and torment.

Dean was panting heavily with the force of his nightmare, his teeth and eyes clenched tight. He was trapped in a deep sleep and was unable to realize it was not reality, as he felt blood drip down his body and pool around his feet.

Castiel woke up when Dean began to move agitatedly in the bed. He reached out to Dean's shoulder to shake him awake, not wanting to use his powers to dive into his dreams since he knew the other man did not want him inside his head. "Dean," he said his name quietly, trying not to wake Sam as he continued to shake him awake.

Panic struck Dean when he felt hands on his shoulders pulling him away. His eyes snapped open and in the darkness of the room his first instinct was to grab for the knife he usually kept under his pillow but he realized soon that he had not placed it there that night. Instead, he used the only defense he had: his fist. Shooting straight up out of bed, he did not focus his eyes on his attacker before delivering the shadowy figure a hard blow to the face and sending him flying backwards off the bed.

"What the hell!?" Sam yelled when he woke up quickly turned on the light to find Castiel clutching his bloodied nose and looking up at Dean with wide eyes. Sam got up to help Castiel off the floor. "What the hell happened?" he demanded, sleep still clouding his mind as he helped the angel to stand.

Reality finally hit Dean hard but he still could not shake himself completely from the dream and was still halfway inside of it. Damn, he thought to himself, whatever he had punched had hurt. Dean looked over the edge of the bed to see Castiel with a bloody face and wide eyes and his expression quickly changed to shock before he masked it again with anger. "He snuck up on me!" he shouted back at his brother in defense.

Sam turned to give Dean the 'Are you crazy?' bitchface and turned back to the bleeding angel. He was trying to pry Castiel's hands away from his face so he could get a look at the damage. "Let me see," he said gently to Castiel as he tried to get him to cooperate, but Castiel just shook his head frantically. Sam sighed and tried to pry his hands away but the boy was stronger than he looked.

"Dean, why would he sneak up on you? You were sleeping," Sam reasoned while he wrestled with Castiel. It was like trying to get a kid to show there splinter so you could pull it out.

Dean could not stand to see Castiel bleeding on the floor but he still clung to his defenses. "Ask him that,” he accused. The nightmares were still too fresh in his mind for him to think straight. He glared down at his brother as Sam unsuccessfully tried to look at Cas’ injuries. He was going about it all wrong, he thought to himself. That was not the way to make Castiel show him, but how the hell did he know that?

Castiel just seemed to clutch his face tighter the more Sam struggled with him. "Cas, what happened?" he asked as he hoped to trick Castiel into showing his face but the angel just mumbled through his hands.

"I was trying to wake Dean. He was having a nightmare," he said quietly.

Sam sighed and gave Dean a look before looking back at Castiel. "I need to see how badly you are hurt," he tried again, but Castiel still was not budging.

Dean tried to tune out everything that was going on around him. He tried to find a safe place in his mind, but his mind was tortured and dark and angry and he drew his knees up his chest and buried his own face in his hands.

Sam gave up with Castiel when he noticed the state his brother was in. "Dean?" he asked as he ran over to Dean's side instantly. "What's wrong? Was it the nightmare?" He wanted to reach out and touch Dean but he had blood on his hands. "I’ll be right back," he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

Castiel finally looked up from his hands at Dean with worried eyes but was hesitant to touch after getting hit." Dean, it is alright, you are safe now," he soothed from far away.

Dean was forced out of his hiding place in his hands when he gathered up his senses enough to realize that Sam had seen him that way. He was thankful that his brother had disappeared into the bathroom. He looked down at Castiel and was met with a look that reminded him of a kicked puppy. Something in that look forced Dean to slide out from his bed and onto the floor facing Castiel. He grabbed one of his t-shirts and reached up to gently wipe the blood that had trickled down his nose and corner of his mouth.

Castiel was startled at first but quickly relaxed under Dean's touch. "I did not mean to frighten you," he said sincerely. Dean ignored him as if he did not hear him as he busied himself with wiping the last of the blood from his split lip and avoided those deep blue eyes that saw too deeply into his soul.

Sam came back into the room and sighed. "Of course he lets you do it," he said with an eye roll. He sat down on the bed and handed Dean a wet washcloth so he would not have to continue using his shirt. "Are you okay, Dean?" he asked worriedly.

Dean did not look away from Castiel's split lip. "Shut up," was his only defensive response to him. No, he was not okay, and no, he was not going to admit it to Sam. Dean took the wet wash cloth to Castiel's face, washing away the stains of blood until only the split in his lip remained. Only time would heal that.

Still avoiding eye contact, his hand came to grip the fabric of Castiel's shirt and tugged gently at it as he moved back towards the bed. Sam recognized it as a sign to just leave Dean alone so he turned off the light and slipped back into his own bed. Castiel was confused but went along with Dean to the bed, unsure of what the hunter was thinking but too scared to read his read his mind to find out.

Dean tugged Castiel further into bed and urged him to lay down as he brought the covers up over them. He tucked him in, making sure to do it better and more careful than Sam had. Dean had punched Castiel hard and yet the angel still worried for him. He did not resent him for it. He took the punch and even apologized for it. The angel was an idiot, but a loyal idiot, and Dean could not deny that anymore.

As soon as Dean had settled him in and laid back himself, Castiel automatically scooted closer to him. Dean remembered then how he felt when he lusted after Castiel. He remembered what it felt like to want him and need him, like needing oxygen, because that feeling simply never left him and he was feeling it now as the angel pressed himself closely against him. He was too exhausted to fight, now and it felt too good to have Castiel this close to him even if he did not understand it.

The hunter shifted even closer to Castiel and nuzzled his cheek, smelling the soap still on his skin. A hand tentatively came to snake under the covers and slide around Castiel's slim waist just too simply lay there. Castiel sighed happily and began to drift off into a more peaceful rest than he had , had since he was last in Dean's arms.

Dean watched for a moment after it was clear that Castiel had fallen asleep. Castiel had forgiven him for the punch instantaneously and probably thought he deserved it in some sick, twisted way. He wished he had the strength and courage to say he was sorry but his stubbornness always stood proudly in the way. His arm tightened around the angel instead as he thrilled at the way his slim body fit so perfectly against his own and how effortlessly they molded together. He joined Castiel in sleep a few moments afterwards, knowing that there would be no more nightmares tonight.

***

Castiel woke the next morning to the sound of Sam moving around the motel room. He sleepily nuzzled Dean's neck and wrapped an arm tighter around him. He did not want to wake up and face the rest of the day, but with the amount of noise Sam was making, it was hard not to.

Dean on the other hand, was used to the noise Sam made in the mornings and had been since they were kids and it did not bother him. He was too deeply in his dreams, yet in this one there was no Hell, Only his angel, black wings, and the backseat of his beloved Impala. He woke from the dream when he heard his brother leaving and shutting the motel room door behind him. Dean jumped a little when he felt the warm, slim body against his, and when he opened his eyes they were met with oceans of blue.

He looked into them for a moment and swallowed nervously. "So I guess in Heaven there's no such thing as personal space, hmm?"

Castiel's brow wrinkled in confusion at Dean's question. "Is personal space that important?" he asked curiously but did not move away from Dean.

Dean's lips twitched almost into a smile at Castiel's innocence. Sam was right, Castiel could not have been a human for very long and he was confused about more than a few things. Dean could not imagine what it would be like to be thrown out of Heaven, the only world he ever knew, after eternities of being an emotionless slave to God and suddenly put into a situation like this.

"Yes. It's very important. It makes people uncomfortable," he explained, his voice barely even a whisper, and he could feel him breathing on his skin. Still, he did not move away. "I only want you in my personal space."

"Oh," Castiel responded as he began to understand. "Just yours?" he asked as he tried to keep his face serious but a hint of a smile played on his lips.

Watching Castiel's lips suggest a playful smile caused his stomach to flutter in ways he did not quite understand but by now expected. Every night he dreamed of him and every second he spent this close to him brought back a surge of memories and each one was more overwhelming than the next. "Just mine," he answered him firmly, the same half smirk on his lips. "You know, 'cuz others won't understand. But I at least know you’re a freak and won't take it too personally," he teased.

"Hmmm," Castiel hummed doubtfully, "Is that why you got upset when I was in Sam's bed?”

Dean looked away from Castiel when he brought that up again. "I guess," he tried, but he was not fooling anyone, least of all himself. Yes, he was jealous, fiercely jealous, as if the angel belonged to him and only him. It was ridiculous, he knew that, but it was too strong of an emotion to suppress. "You shouldn't be in Sam's bed," he said again, "And you should have told me we were more than fucking."

Castiel cringed at that vicious word. He hated it when Dean called it that. "I did not want to overwhelm you even more than you already were," he explained.

Dean sighed and shifted so he was supporting himself up on his elbows to look down at Castel. "You didn't think it wouldn't overwhelm me more to find out on my own?" He just wished the angel could have just explained everything to him in the beginning. Instead, he set him up in this game, and Dean just didn't have time for this.

Castiel licked his lips nervously. He hoped this wasn't the beginning of an argument because it was one he would not even try to win. "I thought if it came back gradually it would be easier for you to deal with."

Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in frustration. When he opened his eyes and watched Castiel lick his lips, it was somehow a little easier to relax. "Well, it didn't work. You didn't do me any favors by keeping anything from me. I don't want you to do something like that ever again." His voice shook as if it were ready to crack and break. "I need you to promise me."

Castiel knew Dean was already on edge and he definitely didn't want to push him over it. "I promise," he said softly.

Dean visibly relaxed. He knew the angel's word was enough. He couldn't go back on it now. He could sneak around the truth, almost expertly, but he couldn't lie. The hunter sighed and focused his attention anywhere but Castiel's eyes as he spoke again. "I've missed you," he whispered, because he knew that now, even if he did not fully understand it.

Castiel relaxed when Dean did. The other man projected his emotions in such a way that could cut right through the angel. "You remember enough to know that now?" he asked tentatively, glad that Dean's feelings for him at least were still intact. "I missed you too. This world is very lonely without you."

Dean nodded his head and dropped his forehead to Castiel's neck. "I remember some things," he admitted. There were still very important pieces missing, He still didn't understand why Castiel was here and how he had fallen. "But I can't remember you ever popping pills. You can't do that, Cas, you'll kill yourself." He used his nickname affectionately, remembering now how easily it came through him.

"You drank a lot of liquor, Dean. I do not see how the pills are any different," he protested. All humans had their vices. He didn't understand why he could not have his.

Dean shook his head. "That's different, Cas." He stopped there, however, as he was unable to explain exactly how it was different. He shifted uncomfortably in bed, frustrated that he had finally found someone even more stubborn than himself. He knew the only way was to compromise. "I'll stop drinkin' so much if you promise not to take any pills.. I don't give you myself," he proposed half heartedly.

Castiel did not liking the sound of this at all. "How many pills are you going to let me have a day?" he asked. After all, he needed twice the normal amount to feel anything at all.

Dean sat up on the bed, his shirt having rolled up a little and he pushed it down to cover his chest. "None, Castiel," he answered sternly as he used the angel's full name as if that would make him sound more serious. "Humans don't take pills unless they need treatment for a problem. You were abusing drugs."

Castiel had already gone longer than he had in weeks without taken anything. His hands were already shaking slightly but he hid it well. "But I need them.”

Dean pursed his lips in annoyance but swallowed down his anger when he knew it would get him nowhere. "Were you happy, Cas? …With me?" The question surprised him probably just as much as it surprised Castiel. It was something Dean never thought himself. His lifestyle didn't leave too much room for happiness. It was the price he paid.

Castiel blinked a few times at the change of subject. "Of course I was happy with you, how could I not be?" he asked, not understanding where that question had came from.

Dean was surprised at how easy Castiel answered. "Then you don't need the pills," he pointed out plainly, "Do you know what happy even feels like?"

Castiel still wasn't done fighting for his pills, but Dean's next question threw him off again. "I do now. Now that I know what it means to not be with you."

Dean sighed, not understanding why Castiel would be so loyal to him. He wasn't worth anyone's sacrifices, let alone an angel’s from Heaven. He wondered what his thing was with the winged nerds and he wondered if Castiel knew of his past with Anna that had not been so in the past recently. "I've been with women since you left me." He just came out with it. "And I don't regret it."

Castiel looked away. He knew that, of course, because Sam had told him. But to hear it from Dean, and to hear he didn't regret it, was a stab in the heart. "I understand," he said quietly, wishing for those pills even more now. "I think I need some air," he suddenly announced as he used a phrase he had heard Bobby use. He pushed the blanket off of himself and went to stand up.

Dean got up immediately. He didn't plan on letting him out of his sight any time soon. He stood in the way of the doorway and blocked it. "They didn't mean anything, though. It was like I was trying to... to stop the hunger," he tried to explain. He took one step forward and cupped Castiel's face intimately in his hands. "But all I kept thinking about was you, and that was the only thing that made me cum." Those last words were spoken only an inch from his lips. "And now you're back and I don't want anyone else. Just don't leave me like that again or I'll be the man slut of the town all over again. I won't be able to help myself."

Castiel furrowed his brows. "You made me promise not to be with anyone else while we were apart but you will not make a promise of your own?"

Sometimes it annoyed Dean how much effort it took to get simple things across to the angel. He knew because he remembered that this was not the first time Castiel did not understand. "No, Cas. The conditions are simple. You don't leave me again and I won't go to anyone else."

Castiel nodded hesitantly. The thought of Dean with other people made him feel sick to his stomach. Or maybe something else was causing that. The sudden urge for his pills hit him like a ton of bricks. "Dean, what did you do with those pills you took from me?" he asked as his hand went to his aching stomach.

Dean watched Castiel with concern. "You won't be seeing them again," he answered for what seemed like the thousandth time today. "Why? What's wrong?" He noticed that Castiel was at least two shades paler and the pain was suddenly evident in his face. Dean's hand pressed flat against his forehead and felt the raised heat against it. "You're burning up."

"My stomach hurts," he said, "Dean, give them to me. I need them," he pleaded as his hand darted out to start searching Dean's pockets for the pills he had stolen last night.

Dean knew this wasn't Castiel's fault. After all, he was the one who introduced Castiel to pills, as pure as his intentions had been at the time. "No. You're body is going through withdrawal. You did this to yourself." He pushed Castiel's hands away and tugged him into the bathroom. "It's okay, I'll take care of you. If you feel like you have to throw up, don't miss the toilet. I'm not cleanin' up angel puke."

Castiel tried to take deep breaths. It was like his Grace was trying to burn away the poison in his body at too quick of a rate. "I am not going to vomit," he assured. Instinctively, he pulled his shirt off and began unbuttoning his pants. "It is too warm in here…"

"Woah, woah...." was Dean's first reaction to the angel stripping down, but he stopped himself from stopping him when he realized Castiel stripping may be a good thing in more ways than one. "Okay, well, a cold bath will help bring down your fever." He turned from Castiel to bend over the tub and turn on the water, making sure it was nice and cool.

"Bath? No! I am not getting in the water," Castiel refused quickly.

Dean just gave him a puzzled look. "Why? You won't drown, Cas. It will just be a few inches of water," he explained calmly, "Look, I'll get in with you if it would make you feel better."

Castiel shook his head. "No, they will get wet and take forever to dry and I hate it."

Dean frowned at that. Now he just sounded crazy and he wondered if he was hysterical from the fever. "Cas, you're scaring me, man. What are you talking about?"

Castiel sighed and appeared to roll his shoulders before suddenly his wings appeared as if from thin air. "They cannot get wet," he repeated.

Dean gasped and jumped back until the backs of his knees hit something and he fell backwards, all while unable to pry his unblinking eyes off of the black wings. The span of them almost filled the room and Dean watched in fascination and they shook themselves out as if they needed to stretch after such a long containment.

"Oh," he breathed lamely as he forced himself to rise up and tried to regain his dignity after failing. But the beauty of Castiel in that moment was overwhelming and he stared at the wings as if he were seeing them for the first time because in a way, he was.

Castiel's hand went to his aching head and he leaned his side up against the wall and leaned his head against it when he realized the cold tile wall felt good to his feverish head. "Please, Dean, just one pill," he said to the wall as he closed his eyes tight against the harsh light of the bathroom.

Dean felt his own head ache as if feeling his angel’s pain for himself. Castiel’s jittery wings were practically shaking along with the rest of his body. Dean knew that whatever withdrawal he would suffer must be over much faster than a normal human. Whereas he would usually have to wean him off of the drugs, he knew it was better just to get this over with fast, like ripping off a band aid. Weaning him off would take time, and they did not have time. 

The hunter approached Castiel slowly. "If I give you just one, just one to help get through withdrawal, you'll want more. Then you'll want more and more since you need a dosage that would kill The Hulk to feel anything. And I can't let you do that," he tried to reason with him. One hand came out to gently stroke the feathers of his closest wing as if he were petting a bird. "It will pass. And I'll make sure this never happens to you again," he whispered soothingly.

Castiel's trembling wings gentled under Dean's stroking fingers. He did not want Dean to see him like this. "You go on, I'll just stay right here until it passes," he said. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and pray until the pain stopped.

Dean continued to stroke his wing gently, knowing that although it obviously helped Castiel to relax, he was during it for purely selfish reasons. He could almost feel the sheer power of these wings under his hand under all that beauty.

"No way. I'm not gonna leave you. Get used to it," Dean insisted, leaving no room for negotiation. He drew his hand back from the wings only long enough to take a washcloth and wet it with cool water. "Come here. I won't get your wings wet," he promised. He gently turned Castiel away from his hiding place with his face to the wall and pressed the cloth to his forehead. "Better?" he asked as he patted it. God, his temperature must be over one hundred fifteen degrees. He wondered if Castiel always had a little higher than normal temperature.

Castiel sighed under the cool cloth. "Yes, feels good," he said leaning forward as if to try and get closer to the source of cold.

Dean watched as Castiel's tense wings lowered and relaxed. When the angel sighed, his wings fluttered a little and so did Dean's heart. "It will feel even better if you get in the tub. Why can't you get your wings wet?" he asked softly.

"They just feel too heavy and it messes the feathers up," Castiel answered without opening his eyes.

Dean almost laughed at that. He smiled affectionately and imagined the look of a wet and angry angel. He gave up on the bath for now but decided he needed to get him used to water eventually when he was feeling better. "So no rain either?" he teased as he continued to cool down his forehead. He turned from Castiel only long enough to rummage through one of Sam's bags he had put in the bathroom. "Here, I got some pills that you are allowed to take. They won't make you high but they will relieve the pain. But under no circumstances do you take them without me giving them to you." He found a bottle of Aspirin and gave him two.

Castiel downed the pills dry. "I think I need to lie down," he said softly as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Dean's shoulder. He no longer had the energy to stand up.

"That's a good idea," Dean agreed. His voice was still soothing and calm and it was something he wasn't used to hearing from himself. Did he always talk to Castiel like that? For a second, he could only stand there, his arms around Castiel’s slim waist as he felt the shorter angel's body threaten to fall. His wings almost curled around both of them, forming a wall, and Dean watched as they caught the light and shone almost blue. "Want me to carry you?" he whispered, but didn't wait for an answer before he hoisted him up gently in his arms. "God, Cas, you weigh nothing," he teased gently.

The fever made the world a strange place a seemed to loosen Castiel’s tongue. "Maybe my bones are hollow like a bird’s are. Do you think so?" he asked as Dean laid him down on the bed. He shrugged his shoulders to will his wings to disappear.

Dean missed the wings instantly and wished that he could have kept them out just a little longer. But he knew there would be plenty time in the future where they would come out to play. Dean would make sure of it. The hunter slid into bed with him but he didn't allow himself to settle. He propped himself up so he could continue to dab his angel’s hot forehead with the cool cloth.

"Hmm. I can guess one bone that's not hollow," he smirked, grinning at his own joke.

"Which one?" Castiel asked, of course, taking the literal meaning.

Then Dean did laugh. He should have known the angel wasn't going to know what the hell he was talking about. "It was a joke, Cas," he sighed. He was going to let it go before he decided that explaining it might be funnier. "I was referring to your cock."

"Oh," Castiel said, looking embarrassed before looking back at him alarmed. "There's a bone in there?!"

Dean laughed again. "No, no. There's no bone, it's just a figure of speech," he soothed him, "You should get some sleep. The more you sleep the sooner you'll wake up feeling better."

"Okay," Castiel agreed quietly as he shifted to try and find a comfortable position. He ended up flipping over onto his stomach. "You do not have to watch over me. I will be fine here," he told his companion.

Dean watched as Castiel settled down and his eyes immediately were drawn to something he hadn't noticed in the bathroom. The wings had covered it, but it had been there all along: Black designs in an exotic language he couldn't read lay on his bare back. He stared, knowing that he had dreamt of these. "Cas... what is this?" he asked, and to show him what he meant, his fingers traced the pattern of his tattoo slowly.

"Hmm? Oh, there just Enochian symbols," he answered sleepily. Dean was taking advantage of Castiel's drowsiness to continue outlining the symbols in his back as one drew him in more than the others for reasons he couldn't explain. When Dean's hand rested on the symbol between his shoulder blades, Castiel added, "That one is your name."

Dean shot up and took back his hand as if Castiel's skin had burned him. "What?!" he demanded. Dean grabbed Castiel's shoulders and flipped him over until he faced him. "Castiel, why is my name written on your back!"

The angel groaned at the sudden shift in position. He just closed his eyes tight and shook his head side to side. He couldn't have this conversation again. Dean would remember eventually and he wouldn't have to tell him.

Dean gritted his teeth and growled in frustration. "Dammit, Cas, did you get that done yourself or something?" he demanded again as he gently shook his shoulders, not knowing another interrogation technique to work on the world's most stubborn angel of the Lord.

This time Castiel just shook his head yes because he thought that was what Dean wanted to hear.

Dean stared down at him in shock. He opened his mouth only to close it when he was speechless. "Why would you do that? Is it some kinda spell? Some kinda spell binding me to you?!" he accused far too quickly, "God dammit, Cas, you better tell me now before I drive a knife straight into your back."

"Well, you better do it because I am tired and sick of talking," Castiel barked back as he pushed Dean away and turned back onto his stomach. He was too exhausted for this and his head pounded painfully.

Dean's hands formed into fists and poised to attack but he couldn't do it. Not again. The angel had some kind of hold on him, some kind of unearthly hold. Dean stood up fast and walked quickly out of the room, slamming the door for good measure.

TBC…


	17. Chapter 17

He found Sam in the diner downstairs with his laptop open in front of him. Dean power walked over to him and shut the computer because what he had to say demanded more attention than anything else.

"I think he put me under some sort of spell, Sam,” he began nervously, “You might be under it too. I don't understand it but-..."

Sam rolled his eyes before he interrupted him. "It's not a spell, Dean. People do crazy things when there in love," he sighed, not looking up from his laptop as he reopened it.

That did not help Dean relax at all. It was typical of Sam to brush off something so important. Dean shoved the laptop to the side and forced himself into his brother's focus of attention. "No, Sam. The spell is written on his back, I saw it myself. It has my name on it. And he won't tell me why. It's some sort of spell," he repeated. He was starting to panic now.

"Oh, that," Sam realized. “It's nothing bad, Dean. I don't know all the details but I think it just means that Castiel belongs to you now."

Dean stared blankly at his brother when he realized he knew about the tattoos. And what a weird thing to say, even for Sam. Belonged to him? What the hell did that supposed to mean? "Why should I believe you?" Dean challenged, needing one good reason. "How do I know you're not... just letting the spell talk for- wait a minute," he stopped instantly, "Did you say in love?"

Sam snorted. "Believe what you want to, I don't care. Call Bobby, he's been translating the damn things. And I guess it's love… I've never seen you act like this with anyone else before, not even Cassie or Lisa," he said irritably. His brother's love life was getting to be too much for him.

"Yeah, well, it's not what it looks like," Dean barked back, because love was a word that wasn't in his vocabulary. “I acted differently with them because oh, hmm, let's see… they didn't have big black wings and they didn’t come down from Heaven. It doesn't mean I'm in love with him."

"Listen, I understand this is a lot to take in, but when you get your memory back it will no longer be an issue. Until then, I wouldn't say stuff like that in front of Cas. Wait a minute… did you say Cas has wings?" Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah!" Dean exclaimed, happy that his brother was actually listening to him about something for once. With wide eyes, he waved his arms up and down, flapping them as if to further illustrate what he meant. "Big black ones! It's like he can just whip them out of nowhere."

Sam smiled at Dean's excitement. "I guess that would explain your feather collection," he mused, his voice almost too low for his brother to hear. Then, just like that, he went into Geek Mode. "I wonder where he keeps them when they are away."

Dean frowned when his brother brought up his secret feather collection, but Sam changed the subject just in time. "On another plane. I don't know," he shrugged. He suspected most of the time they were on the same plane as their true form. He was grateful that Castiel didn't seem to do any of that stuff that Anna had a knack for.

Except for a few streetlamps and Bobby's kitchen light.

What?!

Those thoughts came streaming into his head with unknown origin and they made no sense at all to him. "He doesn't like to get them wet. That's why he didn't wanna get in the tub," he explained, but immediately, he realized what he had said and how it could be misunderstood and he stuttered to correct himself. "Uh... he's going through withdrawal. From his little drug addiction. I was trying to cool down his fever. That’s why I was trying to get him in the tub."

Sam raised his eyebrows but decided not to tease his older brother right now. There would be plenty of time for that later when he had his memory back. "He's going through withdrawal already? Maybe that means he will get over it faster."

"You know, Sammy, I really don't need more bullshit than I already have to deal with. You know more about this. Refresh an old man's memory. Help me put the puzzle together," Dean attempted in frustration.

Sam sighed. "There's not really a lot I know, Dean. Castiel is the one that pulled you out of Hell. Heaven apparently laid siege to it to save you and they were actually losing. Cas's orders were to retreat but he stayed and the trauma of pulling you out caused him to lose a lot of his grace," he explained as he took a deep sip of his coffee. "We met him on a case. Demons had a bounty out for catching him alive. He was in a psych hospital when we found him and he recognized you right away. And, well, you two just sort of happened. Bobby thinks Cas was made into an angel/human hybrid for you. To help protect you."

Dean cut Sam off with a fist slammed on the table, the coffee almost jumping up in the air. "Alright, you know, I don't have to listen to this," he growled, and walked away before he could hear anything else, but not before he grabbed a bagel and bottle of water off of the table.

He needed to check on the angel, anyway. For all he knew, the dude could have snuck out in search of more pills or gotten himself hurt some other way. He stormed off towards the room but opened the door gently. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, but after taking one step closer, Dean could see Castiel laying on the bed. He stopped dead when he noticed he was naked, wearing only his black tattoo and a revealing sheet leaving nothing up to Dean's perverted imagination.

Castiel's eyes fluttered open when the door opened. He made sure it was Dean before he shut them again. "Did I sleep long?" he asked.

Dean forced his eyes to focus when he realized Castiel was awake. "Probably more than you have in weeks, but no," he answered honestly. Still ignoring his nudity, Dean stepped closer to sit on the edge of the bed and looked everywhere but directly at the angel. "How are you feeling? Sit up, you gotta eat something."

Castiel rolled onto his back so he could sit up and the sheet wrapped around his waist. "I still feel too hot," he admitted quietly, looking at Dean through fever glazed eyes.

Dean looked down as Castiel sat up, but the sheet didn't fall. Instead, it lay loosely around his hips. "I see that. You know, you can't parade around in your birthday suit. We're gonna have to get you some clothes of your own once you've got a normal fever of one hundred eleven. Drink some water, it'll help. It won't make your wings all clumpy, I promise," he teased with a slight smirk on his face, raising the open bottle to Castiel’s slightly parted lips.

Castiel's hands came up to take the bottle as he drank deeply, chugging it faster than any mortal could. When he couldn't drink anymore he placed it on the nightstand before he scooted back down the bed and lay down. "I know I am a burden to you, perhaps I should stay at Bobby's until this passes."

"Shut up, Cas, it's my fault you're like this," Dean whispered as he brought the thin sheet further up over the angel’s body as if he were tucking in a small child.

Castiel stilled Dean's hand with his own. "My mistakes are my own."

Dean gently took back his hand and drew the sheets more comfortably over him. In general, he was fussing over him and attempting to distract himself from the heavier issue. "Listen, Cas, I don't remember much but I do remember once when you were in pain I gave you narcotics. You had to have learned this from somewhere. And I take it you don't watch much TV so..." He stopped fussing and looked down at the white sheets, the part that didn't cling to Castiel's body. "And you being human is my fault too. At least that's what I'm picking up on."

Castiel frowned. "That was my choice too, Dean, and I would always choose it."

Dean was starting to get angry again. "How was it your choice? Why would you ever choose this life?" he demanded.

"I thought my feelings for you were obvious," Castiel whispered, looking up and trying to catch Dean's eyes since the hunter seemed to avoiding that contact. He reached out and cupped his chin and forced the hunter to look at him. "I know I have wronged you, but I will not intentionally do so again."

Dean swallowed nervously when he finally had no choice but to drown in Castiel’s blue eyes as if they had sucked him under like a tidal wave. He didn't think it could get more obvious than his name in Enocian on his back. He just still didn't want to admit it.

"No more pills, then." He hoped to get Castiel to promise. "And sleep a little more. You'll feel better if you do."

"Will you lay with me?" Castiel asked, his eyes pleading.

Dean was still lost in the oceans of his eyes and he knew he couldn't say no. "You know, you're puppy eyes are worse than Sam's," Dean muttered affectionately, but nonetheless stripped himself of his jacket and shoes and grunted as he laid down on the bed. He didn't know exactly how tense and restless he was nowadays until he allowed himself to relax. Dean reached for the cool, damp cloth on the bedside table and dabbed Castiel's forehead with it soothingly. "Close your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, low and intimate, and the name had come out of its own free will. It had come out of a hidden part of Dean that had surfaced suddenly in the moment.

Castiel smiled and snuggled closer to Dean before he allowed his eyes fall shut.

***

Dean hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He convinced himself he wasn't tired, but he must have dozed off not long after Castiel had closed his eyes. He woke up with his arm around Castiel's middle and he felt the soft rise and fall of the angel’s breathing. He shook himself awake and took back ownership of his arm, noticing that Castiel was actually wide awake. He cleared his throat nervously and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey, Sleepin' Beauty, how's the rehab going?" he asked, but knowing that none of that would make sense to the angel, he rephrased, "How are you feelin'?"

"I feel much better," he told Dean just as his empty stomach made itself known with a growl.

Dean grinned when he heard the healthy signs of a hungry stomach and no fever when he felt his forehead. Sam was right. Castiel came out of it quicker than any human could have. "Aw, I forgot to feed you. I brought up a bagel and everything. I guess I don't take very good care of my pet angel," he teased lightheartedly.

An hour later, they had dressed and found Sam in the local library before heading to the nearest diner to grab a bite to eat. Sam looked at the menu before saying, "There's not a lot of choices for Cas here."

At first, Dean gave Sam a confused stare. It took a second for him to remember that Castiel turned his little angel nose up at eating meat. He also had one hell of a sweet tooth, which Dean could remember as adorable.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot,” he snickered. “He can munch on the veggie Greek salad. Sound good, Cas?" he turned to Castiel to ask, but before the angel could answer, a waitress walked up to the table.

"Can I help you-" She was cut off when met with Dean's surprised look. "Oh, hello, Dean. And I was just about to call y'all gentlemen. Of all the things I'd call you, I wouldn't choose that." She winked flirtaceously.

Dean immediately went into a different state of mind and gave her his best grin. "Melanie, I didn't know you worked here. I guess you're just multi talented."

Castiel didn't really understand what was going on but he knew he didn't like it. Instead of saying anything, however, he picked up the menu and attempted to hide behind it. Sam just groaned.

That earned Dean a flirty giggle and a roll of the eyes. "Oh, you know it, Baby," she teased, and Dean looked her up and down slowly with the same cocky grin. As usual, Dean wasn't thinking, at least, not with his Upstairs Brain. Otherwise, he may have taken notice of his brother's annoyance and Castiel’s jealous anger he was trying to hide behind the menu.

The waitress giggled again and took out her pad of paper, chewing her gum noisely. "So what'll it be tonight?" she asked Dean, her tone suggestive.

"I'll uh... have your number," Dean teased back.

Sam suddenly couldn't take it anymore. He kicked Dean under the table, and when he got Dean's focus on him, he nodded towards Castiel who looked like he was trying to disappear entirely. Dean's mouth opened in a gasp of pain when he felt his brother's foot kick him back into reality.

"Ow! Dude!" Dean exclaimed. The waitress looked from one brother to the other with an amused grin and raised her eyebrows.

"We will have a Greek salad and two cheeseburger plates," Sam told the waitress shortly, having lost all patience.

"Alright well... I'll have that right away for ya," she laughed before walking away.

Right, Dean thought after his leg stopped smarting. Real life, not porn. Especially not with Sam and.... Castiel. Shit. He looked over to his angel who was still trying to escape. He saw that the menu was reversed. "Cas... it's upside down," he whispered.

Castiel blushed and put the menu down on the table and stared at his hands instead of looking up and anyone else.  
Dean couldn't see that. The angel was giving his hands the beaten puppy look at its finest. He sighed deeply. It had been just another one of those drunken nights at the bar of the motel, and that girl, who called herself Melanie, had helped soothe Dean's loneliness and artificially filled the aching void in his soul left behind by Castiel if only for a few hours. It had just been for fun. A distraction from the heavy weight on his shoulders and the impending doom ahead of him.

"That was just... an old friend," Dean said into his beer, trying to brush it off, but only made it worse.

"I am not naïve," Castiel replied quietly.

Dean pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, no longer apologetic. If Castiel was going to make this difficult, that is exactly what it will be. "Well, Wifey... you stole my memory and left me, of course I was gonna catch some tail in your absence," he accused angrily.

"I should have stolen your overly stimulated libido, as well," Castiel let slip out. He hadn't really meant to say it that loud and Sam tried to hold in his laughter.

Dean clenched his jaw, pretending to be interested in the desert menu, even if he was staring at it like he wanted to kill it. "Oh, Baby, I have a feeling you'd miss that more," he growled viciously, "I'll have you know she was a great lay, and didn't fuck with my memories of it afterwards."

Castiel bit his lip to prevent from saying anything else and they were instead surrounded by tense silence until the waitress came back with their food. She left with a wink for Dean, which ended up making Castiel lose his control.  
The glass pitcher of water she was holding exploded. Castiel looked away sheepishly as she yelped.

Both brothers visibly jumped and Dean watched in shock as the floor and the waitress became drenched. The waitress was equally as shocked, and looked down at herself cluelessly. An older man who Dean instantly knew had to be the manager stormed over. "Melanie, what is wrong with you? Go clean yourself up," he commanded, and she gave him an angry, defiant look before storming off.

"I'm sorry, Sirs, I'll have a fresh water pitcher and new waitress for you shortly," the manager told them sympathetically before walking off. Dean snickered, but there was nothing funny, nothing at all.

"Real mature, Princess,” Dean growled, “All you did is make her tits visible through her white top. Thanks for that."

Sam was just taking a sip from his drink when his glass shattered, too. "Seriously, Cas?" he glared, aggravated as he cleaned himself up with a napkin.

"I apologize, Sam," Castiel said as he moved his salad around with his fork, none of the food actually making it into his mouth.

The manager came rushing over again. "Oh, another accident... I'll get you something to clean up with and a fresh glass of water..." he insisted.

"It's ok, we're leaving," Dean glared before rising up, not willing to sit here and argue in public with Castiel who obviously couldn't keep certain things under control. Leaving a twenty dollar bill, he stormed out of the diner.

Sam followed Dean and Castiel lagged slowly behind. "I think I'll head back to the motel and check out the pool,” Sam went with the first excuse that came into his head before he practically ran off.

"You provoked me," Castiel explained. He knew Dean had slept with others, but it was another thing to watch it happen. "What if I had taken a lover while we were apart and then rubbed that fact in your face like you just did me?"

Dean instantly softened at that thought, because it simply hadn't occurred to him that Castiel could have hooked up with someone, too. He couldn't handle that thought. Dean grabbed Castiel by the shoulders firmly and glared into his eyes. "You didn't. Did you?"

Castiel stayed stubbornly silent at first but he couldn't lie to Dean even it a part of him wanted to. He knew his silence was almost as bad so he kept his mouth shut and eyed him defiantly.

Panic gripped Dean and he shoved Castiel firmly against the brick wall of the building that had only been right behind the angel. "Castiel!" he growled angrily, but his voice softened as he covered his body with his gently like a lover. "Tell me you didn't." His voice was begging now, pleading.

"It hurts does it not? Thinking of me sharing myself with someone other than you,” Castiel pointed out. "But of course I did not. But maybe I should."

Yes, it hurt. It hurt more than Dean would ever even attempt to admit, to anyone, even his Cas. The thought of someone taking his angel churned his stomach and turned him violent. "I didn't know you existed, dammit. I only... I only just realized within the last day that you do." He held down that anger, because he was tired of it. "You left me with a hollow feeling in my chest, and I didn't know what to do with it, so I drank and tried to find you in the wrong places. I already told you they meant nothing."

"I am here now, Dean," Castiel said, still angry, "I was sitting right beside you while you spoke with that harlot."

Dean gripped his own hair in frustration. "I'm... I'm all screwed up, okay? I slept with that girl two nights ago. It was before you came back and I didn't know what to think, considering I still don't remember everything about us! And for your information, I know that the only reason you came back was because Sam tricked you into it. Otherwise you never would have."

Castiel wasn't going to allow Dean to make him feel guilty, so he reversed their positions until he had Dean pushed against the wall and was crashing their lips together. Shocked with the suddenness of the kiss, Dean moaned heatedly into it and tangled his hand in the angel's messy black hair. Yes, this is it... this is what he had needed. He tasted home in Castiel's mouth, and all anger automatically melted away, overpowered by something much stronger.

The second he felt Castiel pin him harder against the wall, Dean’s legs spread a little, enough to press his growing hardness against the angel's hips. "Take me here. Right now." His voice was rough and spoken directly against Castiel's lips, unable to pry his own off of him as he panted heavily against them. He just couldn't get enough, he couldn't get closer, and fuck, he missed him so much. "Baby, I need you. Make me remember," he pleaded into his mouth, his hands wandering restlessly.

Castiel moaned as he rested his forehead against his. "Too public. Hold tight," he warned before he flew them to the motel room in a blink of an eye. He growled as he pushed Dean onto the bed and made quick work of divesting the other man of his clothes.

"Goddammit, Cas, warn me before you zap us!" Dean growled, but his voice was thick with lust. He was already rock hard by the time his back collided with the mattress and the only thing he could think about was flesh on flesh. He fought off Castiel's clothes and his own, all but ripping the fabric and thankful that he had given the angel baggy sweats and not jeans to complicate things.

Castiel kissed him apologetically, forgetting that traveling like that was second nature to him but to a human it had to be uncomfortable. As soon as they were both naked, Castiel pressed their groins together and moaned at the feeling of his wings unfolding uncontrollably behind him. He pulled back from the kiss to look down at Dean. "I will make you forget about every other lover you have ever had," he promised him. This time, however, he would not use his powers to do so.

Dean arched his back when he felt their naked cocks slide against each other and heard the soft fluttering of wings. When he opened his eyes he saw them above him and he was overcome. He pulled Cas closer to him and spread his legs around his hips, needing it to happen soon. There was plenty of time for foreplay later. He had waited too long for this. "Make me forget and make me remember.... now..." he demanded, and gripped his hair tight as he attacked his mouth in another kiss.

Castiel had to still the urge to just push into Dean. "We need…" he began, and he remembered the bottle of lube in Dean’s bag, he used his powers to make it appear on the bed. "I need to prepare you."

Dean shook his head. He was starving for it. He needed to feel complete. Not thinking straight, Dean tried to kiss away any ideas of waiting. "No, I don't need it," he pleaded, and thrust his hips up against Cas.

Castiel did not know enough about the human body to know that this was not a good idea. He only wanted to make Dean happy. So he hesitantly lined himself up before pushing slowly into Dean's body. The hunter’s nails dug into Castiel's shoulder and cried out as a mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through his body.

"Wait, wait..." he panted, and with a palm on his lover's chest, he pulled him out and impatiently reached for the bottle. He made quick work of lathering up Castiel's erection before lifting his hips and sliding his own slick fingers into himself. He moaned as he did so, scissoring himself open even as his body resisted, frustrated that he couldn't take Cas as easily as he wanted to.

Castiel's eyes were glued to Dean's hands working himself open. "I did not hurt you, did I?" he asked worriedly.

Dean watched Castiel watching him with a knowing smirk. "No, Baby, of course you didn't hurt me," he soothed, and moaned when his own fingers found his prostate. He reached up to capture Castiel's lips again in a fierce kiss as he rubbed that hidden part of himself. "I bet I could get you off just by fingering myself, huh? Maybe we should try that sometime," he teased, because there were a lot of things he wanted to try with his angel. A whole lengthy list of things.

No apocalypse could stand in his way.

Finally, it was too much, and he slid his fingers out of himself. "Back inside," he demanded immediately, spreading his legs wider around his hips and bringing him closer again. "Come on, Baby..."

Castiel was even more hesitant than he was a few moments ago and he slid just the tip of his cock inside of Dean and stayed there. "Okay?" he panted.

Dean grunted when the head of Castiel's cock breeched him. "It's ok, you won't hurt me," he assured, automatically adjusted his hips to try and sink Cas further inside of him. "Don't stop or I swear I'll turn this thing around and slam myself down on you," he whispered threateningly against the angel's lips.

"You are not in control here," Castiel told him firmly and slammed into Dean as if to prove a point. He moaned when he was suddenly completely surrounded in Dean's tight heat. "You feel so good," he admitted gently.

Dean cried out and smiled when he got the reaction he wanted out of his angel, the dominant side of him that he would always submit to. He moaned and clenched around him when he felt himself being filled to the hilt, his body still underprepared but the feeling of completion was too good. Yes, this is what he had been searching for, waiting for.

"Yeah?" Dean panted against his lips with a cocky smirk. "I may have wandered... but this I keep tight for you." His voice was deep and raspy with need and one hand came above his head to grip the bedpost and brace himself for Castiel's thrusts.

Castiel pulled back out and this time he pushed slowly back in, angling for that special spot inside of Dean. He was determined to make Dean come over and over again and stay inside him the whole time. Now that he knew his body reacted differently than Dean's in his recovery period, he was determined to use that to benefit his lover. "You will not be wandering anymore," he said, kissing and sucking on Dean's pulse point as he set a slow, teasing rhythm.

Dean arched his back and cried out again when Castiel's next thrust found his prostate, and his own leaky cock twitched between both their chests. "No, not when I- mmmm!" He was finding words impossible now. "Not when I have my angel," he smirked as he panted heavily, watching his lover’s wings shining blue from the sun that was streaming through a window.

Castiel reached down between them and stroked Dean's cock in time with his thrusts. Dean arched his back and tried to raise his hips to thrust up in time to meet Castiel's. "Mmm, baby you're gonna have to do this more often then..." he smirked, and braced himself with a hand still clutching the bedpost and another tangled in his lover's hair. He felt like he was being split in two, but the pleasure greatly outweighed the pain.

"I want you come for me."

As it on cue, as if the angel controlled his control effortlessly, Dean felt himself tighten up and slide closer and closer to the edge. “I'm so close... Cas, harder..." he demanded, and he felt the head of Castiel's cock strike his prostate, each thrust bringing him closer and closer until finally his body thrust up violently against his. He shot his cum onto their chests as he cried out so loud he expected to break a few windows of his own.

When he closed his eyes against the tidal wave of orgasm, at first Dean could only saw stars. But with it came a storm of memories, as if he was finally led to the part of his mind that had been so closed off to him. He remembered every second of it now. He remembered what the tattoos meant and he heard that voice in his head over and over again telling him that Castiel was made for him, brought to him, by God himself.

Overwhelmed, his eyes opened wide to Castiel's. "Oh my god..." was all he could choke out.

Castiel was still hard inside of Dean and it took all his will power not to come when Dean clamped down on him.  
"What's wrong?" he stopped to look down worriedly.

Dean blinked up at the angel, his angel, in every sense of the word. He couldn't speak at first, still too overwhelmed with the force of that orgasm and the memories that had just come back to him. He still felt Castiel hard inside of him, not knowing why the angel hadn't come.

"I remember everything," he finally breathed, and brought Castiel's lips down to his to prove it.

Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth excitably. "Please, forgive me," he whispered brokenly.

Dean couldn't pry himself away from his angel's bruised lips. He shook his head but dived into his mouth again. "I'm never going to forgive you. You left me. And you weren’t ever going to come back. I needed you and you just..." It was too much, he kissed him again, hard and passionate.

Castiel made a whining noise and he couldn't help but thrusting again. Dean had meant every word, but his need for Castiel outweighed all and there was no denying it. Dean broke from the kiss only long enough to graze his hand along the soft feathers of his wings.

"God, you're so beautiful. Every inch of you is perfected for me, you know that?" Dean growled against his lips as he arched his back and felt him move inside of him.

"Yes, for you," Castiel panted.

Dean was hardening again faster than he thought was possible, even for him, as Castiel's cock struck against his sensitive prostate. One hand grasped Castiel’s waist which was deliciously sticky with drying cum. Dean swept enough up to lick it off his finger and moaned at the taste of himself mingled with Castiel's sweat. "Tryin' to make me cum again? Twice before you do? Three times? Mmmm!"

"Yes, always," Castiel admitted, his wings shaking.

Dean lost it again. "Oh god, Cas..." His hips began to thrust up to meet his, his cock leaking again. "I'm gonna make you cum inside of me." He bit on his earlobe gently after whispering huskily directly into his ear.

Castiel moaned, knowing he was already on edge. He bent one of Dean's legs up so he could thrust deeper inside of him. "You want my seed inside of you?"

Dean thrilled when his leg was stretched and the thrusts hit his prostate harder. The headboard was slamming against the wall now, the mattress protesting underneath them, but all Dean could hear was his lover's voice and the sound of their heaving breathing interchangeable with one another’s. "I want you to cum deep inside of me, filling me up... mmm I wanna feel you,” Dean pleaded, feeling his own second orgasm creeping up on him and he knew he'd have less control this time.

Castiel's hand went back to stroking Dean's erection, desperately wanting to bring him off before he met his own little death. "Come with me then," he whispered.

There it was again. The demand to come that Dean couldn't resist. He cried out he coated Castiel's chest and his own, his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm. "Come on, Baby..." he begged, needing to feel him empty himself inside of him.

Castiel growled as he came hard and filled Dean up, and in that moment, Castiel finally felt as if he were complete after weeks of feeling as if he had left a part of himself here with Dean. He all but collapsed on top of his lover.

One light bulb burst while the other only flickered and died, and Dean came again when he felt himself being filled with his essence that coated him from the inside and soothed his soreness. Still, he hoped Cas would never move out of him. His wings had outstretched even further during his orgasm and now that they were both exhausted and collapsed on top of each other, Dean couldn't keep his lazy hands off those feathers.

Overwhelmed, the hunter searched for the right thing to say. "I love you," he whispered roughly against his lips. He hoped that Cas won't expect him to start saying that often, because it had never been easy for him and he had never said it to another person besides his own family.

Castiel smiled. "I know," he assured him, "I love you, too."

Dean rested his forehead against Castiel's and his hands continued to pet and stroke his wings, lovingly and worshipingly. "Good. You'd better," he smirked, and his breathing finally slowed almost down to a normal, healthy rate.

Castiel's whole body shuddered under Dean's touch. His wings were a very sensitive part of his body. "I am glad you remember now."

Dean thrilled at the shudder he earned from his attention to his wings and knew they must be a big pleasure zone for Castiel. He felt the strength of them under his fingers and knew they were no flimsy things. They were as powerful as they were beautiful.

"Not all the memories were good. Sometimes I think there's more bliss in ignorance," he admitted sorrowfully, because his last memory of Castiel was anything but pleasant. Well, the sex was. But the knowledge that he would never see him again... He was going to work very hard to make sure he never had to go through that again.

"I am sorry. I thought I was doing what was best, I thought it would better keep you safe," Castiel whispered regretfully, kissing Dean's neck softly. "Even Gabriel said I was being an idiot. I should have listened."

Dean was surprised. Gabriel, the trickster who had spent so much time trying to kill him? Maybe he wasn't so bad, now that his little brother was with Dean.

The hunter kissed Castiel again deeply, not wanting to hear any more apologies. What was done has been done, and now they were together again, and none of that matters now. "You don't know yet how to be what you are... you're only just now having these emotions... and you're one stubborn sonofabitch. But you're also used to being a soldier of God, and not having room for argument." It was the closest thing to accepting an apology as Dean was going to get. His hand came to cup Castiel's cheek. "Next time you'll know better, hmm?" He kissed those lips again, his tongue tasting him. "I need my little nerdy guardian angel more than ever now, so don't you go disappearing again."

"No more disappearing," Cas promised. "Lucifer's been building up his army, I have killed off many of his Generals but not all of them," he admitted.

Dean blinked at Cas, knowing that he shouldn't have been surprised. It wasn't like Cas was going to sit on his cute little butt while Dean continued on fighting against the apocalypse. He should have known Cas had been up to something. But it ended now.

Dean shook his head and kissed his lips again, his hands still caressing the feathers. He thrilled when they seemed to puff up as if responding to his soft caress before laying back down flat. "No more doing that. You're not the only one who has a job to protect. No one's gonna hurt my angel."

"I was making good progress," Cas protested, not understanding the problem.

Dean was secretly very proud of him. Out there on his own, his drugged up, depressed angel still kicked ass. But he didn't think he could let Cas go out on a hunt by himself like that ever again. "I'm not gonna try to get you to stay locked away while Sam and I are gone anymore, but I'm also not gonna let you go off by yourself, either. We will fight together. We will protect each other. And that way, we can get through this." His hands slid between his back and his wings to caress the tattoo, tracing the lines without needing to see them.

He stroked Castiel's hair now, running his fingers through it, loving it when it was messy just as much as it was when it was well groomed and combed to perfection. He found it soothed him just as much as it probably soothed Castiel. His other hand still stroked his wing. "Sometimes... I wonder if none of this ever happened... this apocalypse shit... if you would still be given to me." He whispered up to the ceiling. "I guess it's one good thing about it. If there is anything at all."

"I would have found my way to you eventually, with or without the Apocalypse," Cas mumbled, because of that, he was sure. He was meant to be with Dean, he was made for him, and knowing that got him through too many long, lonely nights over the past few weeks.

Dean was a realist. He wished he could think the way Castiel could about fate, but he didn't know if he believed in such things, even now. "Yeah, but, maybe you wouldn't have even been created if none of this happened. Or maybe it would have just happened differently," he shrugged. "Anyway, it doesn't matter."

He turned his attention back to what did, and continued to run his hand through his thick black hair.

"I suppose not,” Cas agreed, murmuring against Dean's chest where he had laid his head down. He used his fingers to trace Dean's skin lightly.

Dean relaxed even further under Castiel's fingers and he concentrated on the feeling of still being filled to capacity with his angel. He smirked when he thought of something and opened his mouth to share it out loud. "So these things come out when you're horny? Like a... wing erection?" he teased, stroking the feathers to show what he was referring to. "Can you control them?"

"No," Castiel admitted as he felt his face heat up. He was embarrassed at the thought and thankful Dean couldn't see his blushing. "They have a mind of their own, at least in concerns to you."

Dean grinned devilishly. He shifted and moaned when he moved against Castiel. "So I can get them to come out whenever I want?" he taunted.

Castiel didn't want to give Dean anymore ammunition than he already had, so he let his silence answer him.

THE END.


End file.
